


More than all the rest

by paxbanana



Category: The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 163,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26386663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxbanana/pseuds/paxbanana
Summary: In the perfect world, their stories would be over, but Ellie, Dina, and Abby have never known a perfect world. Each must strike the balance between their duties to their families, their communities, and themselves. Despite their differences, all they want is to leave the world knowing it's a better place than the one they were born into.
Relationships: Abby & Lev (The Last of Us), Dina/Ellie (The Last of Us)
Comments: 101
Kudos: 257





	1. Prologue

Dina’s warm weight in her arms could largely make her forget about the stifling crowd within Jackson’s old church. Dina so rarely made demands of her that Ellie had found no legitimate reason to avoid the fall dance. So here she was, long enough at the party to see yawning JJ off with his grandparents over an hour before. Ellie felt like she was up past her bedtime too.

Ellie acknowledged a few of Jackson’s citizens when they acknowledged her, but her attention remained largely on Dina. Their dance was more side to side rocking than anything with true rhythm, and it continued through an upbeat tune that had other dancers dodging them.

She stroked the skin of Dina’s back at the edge of her shirt and smiled when Dina snuggled closer.

“You’re drunk,” she said when Dina kissed her neck.

“Just trying to corrupt all the innocent children,” was Dina’s coherent reply. So not that drunk. Dina peeked at her with an impish smile, and Ellie couldn’t resist that look. She kissed Dina lightly. Someone—Greg, of course—whistled from nearby as he refreshed his glass of whiskey. He deserved his drink; he’d seen his patrol partner torn up by an infected horde just the week before. At least it had been quick, but that wasn’t a comfort to the man’s family.

It was too damn early in the season for hordes, but infected were crawling south sooner and in larger numbers. Ellie expected to get called out on patrol soon—

She forced her mind from that worry and focused on the moment.

Dina’s hand tightened on the nape of Ellie’s neck; Ellie only offered a smile. Dina was worried that the whistle had triggered anxiety, she realized. “I’m here,” she said.

She _was_ there, in a way she’d been working toward since Joel’s death. Every moment felt real and every unreal moment less so. It took work, every damn day, but she’d realized the first week of being back that the trade-off would be eating her gun. Her unreal and exaggerated anxieties were livable. Still, what used to be unreal worries had become more possible with every passing season.

The crowded church was becoming painfully claustrophobic, and Ellie feared that if she remained here, her hopes for the rest of the night would crash and burn. She needed the safety of home.

“You ready to go?”

Dina's smile widened. She leaned close and affected a scandalized tone. “Do you want to fuck?”

Ellie pitched her voice a little lower than Dina’s, but she didn’t want to stop their banter. “Yeah. I’d like to fuck.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so sooner?”

They laughed as they stumbled through the streets, Ellie walking on her heels despite Dina’s exaggerated pace and firm hold on her hand. By the time they got to the front porch, Dina pulled Ellie against her, and their kiss was definitely the kind that Seth would protest for the innocent children. Even with Dina’s tongue her mouth, Ellie managed to get their shoes off.

The whole house was dark, suggesting James and Robin had already gone to bed. Dina and Ellie shushed each other and giggled as they clambered upstairs, trying but failing to be quiet. With their bedroom door closed and locked, they lost themselves in each other for a while. These moments were rare, though more so now because of JJ and Jesse’s parents and exhaustion and less so because of Ellie’s inability to handle intimacy of any kind.

Ellie had learned to appreciate when her body and mind were ready to accept the vulnerability that accompanied making love with Dina. Dina had never made Ellie feel inadequate, but she was always eager to the point that Ellie still wondered if she wanted more than Ellie could provide.

Not a time to be thinking about that though, not with Dina kissing down her body. Ellie let go, relaxed, and stroked her hand through Dina’s hair, meeting her gaze to communicate she was still here and she really did want this. Dina whispered against Ellie’s body, murmuring her appreciation for being here and doing this.

Positive reinforcement at its greatest.

Later, despite the happiness of the night, her comfort, and Dina’s warm weight, Ellie’s brain asserted itself over her body abruptly. At least her anxiety waited, even if it now flooded her just quickly enough to gear her body for a fight. She’d changed her routine tonight, and her brain told her that change was not appreciated.

Dina, already asleep, murmured unhappily as Ellie slipped out from under her arm. Ellie pulled on a robe—a gift from Robin and James last year—and crept out of the bedroom. JJ’s room was down and across the hall, and she peeked in. Some of her anxiety eased at the sight of him in bed. His leg was out from under his covers, and one arm was flung over his head. JJ’s sweet face was peaceful, his lips pursed in sleep.

His window was open. His room sat against the slanted roof, easy access to the house that Ellie had used once a few months ago when JJ locked them out for fun. She couldn’t blame Robin for cracking the window, but damn, did she hate the habit.

A few months ago, Ellie suggested putting bars on JJ’s window only to earn incredulous stares from all the adults in her family. She could still picture the worry on their faces. Doc Jons had listened to her description and reminded her that what she considered a pragmatic suggestion sprang from an irrational fear.

Ellie walked quietly across the room to close and latch the window. She paused on her way out to touch a lock of JJ’s wild hair before downstairs called her.

Her patrol of the first floor of the house included checking the locks and latches on the windows and doors. For long minutes, she stood in the darkness by the mostly glass kitchen door and gazed out of it. She hated the glass at night.

Something was rattling around outside.

She picked up the aluminum bat resting by the kitchen door and stalked carefully along the porch railing. Something was in their compost bin. When a raccoon burst out of it a moment later, Ellie flinched in a start that made her chest cold. Amusement came a moment later, easing her fear pleasantly. Still, part of her balanced on the edge of agony, waiting for a flashback or panic attack. She counted to five, reminded herself it was a raccoon performing a perfectly normal action, and finally let herself move on. She’d have to set a few traps around Jackson to clear those buggers out before they gave the dogs distemper.

While she was out, Ellie patrolled the entire perimeter of the house. All was quiet, aside from laughter one street over. She shucked Dina’s muck boots on the back porch and reentered the kitchen, resting the bat on the wall and flicking the lock. She checked the front door again, which was also locked.

Back upstairs, Ellie hesitated. She had to turn back to JJ’s room and look in on him one more time before her brain settled.

When Ellie slid back into bed, Dina murmured and rolled to wrap an arm around Ellie’s stomach. Ellie lay flat on her back and closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing in a slow cadence. Muscle by muscle, she consciously relaxed.

Her brain wasn’t quite ready to quit.

Times like tonight, she wondered what kind of world they were raising their son in. Her anxieties were quieted by her nightly patrol, but one in the background remained, and it had been growing every year. Dina had told her to accept it as a part of life, but the fears of what she couldn’t protect her family from became more real every day.

* * *

The water was beautiful today. Abby had always liked the ocean in Seattle, but something about southern California weather put it a step above Seattle. If only she could get over her uneasiness about their location. Abby kept her binoculars in hand and turned her gaze along the beach that surrounded the docks.

“Think we could bring a surfboard out here next time?”

In some ways, Jo was a pleasant companion. Right now, his loud voice grated on her nerves. “We don’t want to surf out here.”

“Why, sharks?”

“Rattlers,” she replied darkly.

“They don’t mess with Fireflies, right?”

“They don’t mess with us.” Troy, the leader of the trading group that day, glanced at Abby briefly. “Six hours, okay? Redondo is cleared. Nothing beyond.”

“Yes, sir,” Abby replied tightly. She checked her pistol and slipped her rifle over her shoulder. Her bag was a welcome weight on her back, though she knew in this weather she’d be soaked in sweat in less than five minutes. She pulled her braid free and flipped it over her shoulder.

Jo was a young guy, but he was built like a tank, and he was panting by the time they climbed up the beach. He was also deathly afraid of infected and flinched at any odd noise. Given their task, she had to ask, “Why’d you volunteer for this, man?”

“I figured it would be cool to rotate in with you.”

Abby pinned him with a dubious stare. Jo withered and winced, scratching his shaved scalp. “…and that you could put a good word in for me with the doc if I help.”

Abby snorted; her mouth pulled in a rueful smile.

“What?” he asked, his dark brow drawn in irritation. “She’s hot. So what if she’s a little older? I can dig an older woman.”

“You’re not her type.”

“Because I’m brown? She is too.”

“Fuck off, man. You know what I meant.”

When Jo laughed, she couldn’t smother her grin.

Abby reached under her t-shirt to rub her deltoid. She’d tweaked something during her workout the day before, but it was a mild complaint. Her quads were mildly sore too, but the exercise felt good. She’d spent so much of her life in Seattle feeling strong that it was a relief to be back at her pre-Rattler weight.

Fucking Rattlers.

Just being on the mainland, even if it was a cleared errand, made her skin crawl and her throat ache. She would never bring Lev out here and could only stomach it herself because not running these errands would drive her crazier than being out here did. She liked the lists of medical supplies better than infected, but they both served the same purpose of keeping her busy.

“So why are we doing this?”

“Samples.”

“Yeah, but why? Don’t we know how it works already?”

“You know the Fireflies wanted to create a vaccine, right?”

Jo shot her a look of incredulity. “Yeah, right.”

She’d damn well rather continuously fail to find the answer than never look in the first place. If only there was a cure for human evil.

It took half an hour to hit the first address. Within the house, a series of clicks and shrieks were audible. Given Jo's abrupt terror, Abby was better off alone. She heaved a sigh as she pulled on her mask. “Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t wait for his thanks before slipping into the dusty confines of the house. The list asked for a sample of spores, a few bits of fruiting bodies, and if possible—with the bolded hand-written **BE CAREFUL** beside it—a piece of a recently living clicker’s neural matter. It was hair-raising to shank a clicker but nothing she hadn’t done nearly a hundred times. Instead of working on the dissection in the darkness, she decapitated the clicker and wrapped its head in a thick plastic bag. The container of spores was enclosed in a black bag to preserve their potency.

Outside, Abby shook the spores from her clothes and removed her mask. Spores were deceptive down here; they lacked the acrid noxious scent she remembered from Seattle. The abundant California sunlight deactivated them quickly. She took shallow breaths anyway as she tucked her samples into her bag and nodded for Jo to follow.

They encountered a few infected and spotted one Rattler collection pair down the hill, but the Rattlers just waved. Abby let her mind slide to the satisfaction of sighting them up and blowing them out of existence, but it was only an idle thought.

After a full day of infection collection duty, they arrived back at the freshly-loaded boat. Jo climbed aboard, offering Abby a hand as she leapt over the side. His grin was wide as he lifted the canvas on one loaded pallet. “I love fresh tomatoes.”

She’d seen a woman die in the Rattlers’ tomato plot, collapsed from heat exhaustion. By that point, Abby had been worked to the bone with all the hardest tasks. Abby the Ox, the Rattlers had called her, and they’d treated her like one. She’d been too damn defeated to do anything but step over the dying woman on her own task.

On the boat ride back, she sat near the bow and posted with the waves. It was such a beautiful, peaceful day, but nothing inside her could reflect that peacefulness. She’d known the Fireflies traded for the Rattlers’ crops—crops they knew were planted, tended, and harvested by slaves—for a year. The weapons and ammunition the Fireflies traded to the Rattlers enabled their human trafficking and allowed them to establish a base in LA to expand their operations. If Abby had learned in that first week, the first month even, she would be gone.

But Lev was invested in this life now. He had friends, a girlfriend too. He was happy, and that was enough. It had to be.

When they docked on Catalina Island, Abby plucked up her bag, checked her weapons back into the armory, and borrowed a golf cart—more for Jo than herself—to ride across the small town to the clinic tucked into the mountainside. The Fireflies’ head doctor was sitting behind her desk chewing on her thumbnail pensively, her expression dark, as it often was.

To Abby’s surprise, Lev was there too, paging through a textbook.

“Heyya,” Abby asked tentatively.

Alyssa gasped in shock. Lev only offered a distracted wave. Alyssa’s attention sharpened as she stood, though she was clearly focused on what they carried. She led Abby and Jo to the locked rooms in the back of the clinic, using three separate keys to open two sets of doors. Jo hadn’t been back here before, and he stiffened visibly when he saw the multitude of infected heads floating in jars. It was a truly gory menagerie, which was such a contrast to the small, quiet woman who snapped on gloves and waited patiently for Abby to unload her samples.

“Did you get the clicker?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Abby replied, pleased to earn Alyssa’s pretty smile. “And a shambler as a bonus.”

“Oh. I need another container…” Alyssa mumbled to herself as she disappeared into the supply closet.

They spent time cataloguing the location from which each sample was obtained. Part of Abby hated that Rattlers supplied them with these addresses, but it wasn’t like Abby was clearing the buildings for them. By the time Alyssa loaded the spore samples into her locked vent hood, Jo excused himself with a nervous stutter. Maybe his crush was well and truly dead now that he knew Alyssa collected infected like Abby collected coins.

After it was all done, Abby loitered. “Want to grab dinner? Lev?”

Lev shook his head. “I’ll eat with Dalia later.”

“Sure.” She experienced a surprising shift of nerves. “Al?”

Alyssa looked up in question. Her glasses had slipped down her nose, and it didn’t take much to see the woman was focused on her new materials. “What was that?”

Abby only sighed. She offered a smile that made Alyssa’s brow furrow. “Enjoy your new samples. See you tonight at the gym, Lev?”

When Lev nodded, she felt some of her loneliness ease. She had no idea what she’d do if Lev found a new workout partner too. Abby let the door close behind her and made her way through Avalon’s quiet settlement. The Fireflies were two hundred people strong now. Two hundred strangers.

She hiked up to the overlook that was Avalon’s north border and sat far enough from the cliff to feel safe but close enough to take in the expanse of the never-ending ocean. Abby wrapped her arms around her knees and set her cheek on her forearm. The ocean was beautiful that day, the breeze cool despite the heat of the sun. She was well-fed, safe, and strong again. And yet…

“Is this happy?”

She thought of Owen, of his enthusiasm and lightness and hope, and she wondered what he would make of this situation. More than she was surely. But that was Owen, and she was Abby. She’d thought finding the Fireflies would fix this strange discontent that continued to eat at her day after day. She hadn’t realized doing so would just add to it.


	2. When the world comes calling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy The Last of Us Day!

The ice cut a jagged edge up each pane of the window that looked out across the patchy field. Ellie saw a set of angel’s wings in one and a wolf’s head in the other; each pattern earned a place in her journal. She shivered despite the heat of the stove on one side. The kettle was steaming, a shrill whistle warned by its current murmur.

Ellie wrapped her hand in her sleeve to pull the kettle off the stove, fearing the whistle more for herself than the still sleeping household. Her brain itched and rolled, warning today would be an uneasy one. She hummed the chorus of ‘Riders on the Storm’ absently.

She was too impatient to let the tea steep, but her goal in the moment was warmth, not flavor.

As she nursed her second cup of more flavorful tea, arms rounded her, and Dina pressed a kiss to her neck. Ellie had heard her approach and leaned back into Dina’s solid body. She smoothed a hand over Dina’s, and their fingers intertwined.

“It’s so early,” Dina murmured into her ear. Her voice was rough with sleep.

“Mm.”

Another kiss to her neck. “I missed you last night.”

Dina would have seen the quilts on the couch downstairs. Even if Ellie’s brain was ready for sleep, the gray of dawn suggested it was too late to try to snatch a few moments of rest. She hoped to tire herself enough today to earn sleep tonight. “Nightmare. Didn’t want to keep you up.”

“You should have woken me up.”

Ellie turned her head, offering Dina a look of annoyance. Dina relaxed, her weight pressed against Ellie’s back, her concern still visible despite her smile. She kissed Ellie lightly, and Ellie nuzzled her. Then Dina winced and drew back. “I can’t believe you drink that stuff.”

“It’s medicinal.”

“It’s a waste is what it is.”

The blankets on the couch did see some action. Dina pulled Ellie into them, and they settled in a cocoon of quilts that warmed rapidly. Ellie rubbed Dina’s lower back, earning a murmur of pleasure. Ellie’s strong hum of anxiety eased with Dina soft and sleepy against her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

More pointedly, Dina asked, “Should you talk about it?”

Ellie sighed, raising Dina’s body with her deep breath. “Just the same. I can’t get through the door, and I hear Joel behind it.”

“It’s been a while since you’ve had one of those.”

“Yeah.” Ellie closed her eyes and felt the edge of sleep butt into her quivering anxiety. It felt good.

“Should you take the day off?”

They both knew how important sleep was for Ellie to function. Lack of sleep could easily worsen her attacks and anxiety, but what could sometimes be a roar was a quiet murmur. Impending doom was there but largely ignorable. She felt okay, especially in light of how Doc Jons’ arthritis was acting up this week. She met Dina’s concerned gaze and shook her head. Ellie brushed a curl of Dina’s hair behind her ear.

“I’m okay. I was gonna take JJ out to ride this afternoon. Is he going to be with James or at the daycare?”

“You should talk to Doc Jons today.”

Ellie tamped down on her irritation because it was unfair. “I will if there’s time. Dina, I’m okay. Where can I pick up JJ?”

Finally, Dina accepted her assessment, but not without an unhappy look and sigh. “Daycare. Should I pack you a lunch?”

“Nah. I’m giving Seth a guitar lesson, and you know how he gets.”

“Pretty soon Jackson’s going to be renowned for all the best two-fingered guitar players in the west.” Dina found Ellie’s left hand and played with her fingers, gentle when she touched the sensitive stumps of Ellie’s last two fingers.

Ellie snorted at the thought of any of her silly lessons amounting to anything. Tommy could pluck still, but he’d lost his music in Seattle. No one else with two whole hands seemed willing to take the lessons from Ellie, and the lessons did give her some clout in the community. She liked it too, even if all her students played by watching her instead of listening to instructions. She was amused at the way that thought formed.

“What?”

Dina was watching her closely this morning, as she was wont to do when she sensed when Ellie was off. Ellie was happy to offer a smile as she raised her brows. “Just thinking about the fact I’m teaching Jackson’s citizens improper fingering technique.”

That earned a slow smile, a contemplative look, then that so welcome side-eye that indicated Dina’s next statement would be a joke. “I give you an eight out of ten.”

The comment would have hurt her even last year, but now she could laugh. Doc Jons had talked about reframing her experiences and being open with Dina about when her teasing hit a sore spot. They’d worked at it, and Dina had started heavy reinforcement in the moment that was a great confidence boost.

When Dina waggled her eyebrows, Ellie reconsidered her statement and gave a quiet laugh. “ _Oh!_ That was bad.”

“Was it? You’re laughing.”

“It’s very damaging to make fun of a disability,” Ellie replied dryly.

“Aren’t you glad your wife is so easy?” Dina murmured. Her lips brushed Ellie’s even as Ellie retorted, “You have to be to marry me.”

Dina kissed her, smiling even as she deepened the kiss. Ellie pulled back, though her hand cupped Dina’s head as Dina abandoned her mouth for her neck. “Babe, JJ’s gonna be awake in a few minutes.”

“Just a little more.”

Robin, Jesse’s mother, caught them making out on the couch like horny teenagers when she came down for breakfast.

Aside from some teasing about being old enough to have a room with a locking door, the morning proceeded as usual. Ellie made sure JJ got dressed, washed his face, and ate his breakfast as she ate her own. Ellie forced down a cut of buttered toast and two boiled eggs, though her stomach was uneasy at best with her meal. At least JJ was easier than he’d been a few years ago. He knew what he wanted and ate what she put in front of him without protest. Best of all, he was still small enough to enjoy her kisses and hugs.

“See you, Potato. Be good today,” she murmured against his hair.

His grin was wide. “Bye, Mom.”

Dina caught her at the door and pulled her in for a light kiss. “Have a good day.”

“You too, babe. Try not to kill Jim today.”

Dina rolled her eyes and swatted Ellie’s butt as she strode out the door. Ellie paused for a moment to give the cat lounging on the porch a good scratch. “Hey, Baby. Catch that fat rat under the house, okay?”

Main Street was busy. Ellie dodged two dogs and a horse on the way to the clinic, altering her route to avoid the forge, and no surprise, Maria caught her at the fence to the daycare. Sometimes the woman could pinpoint where and how Ellie got around Jackson to the second. It was eerie, even more so now that Ellie wasn’t living in her guest bedroom.

“What’s up?”

“I’m going to need you at twelve today.” Maria raised a hand before Ellie protested. “It’s important you’re there.”

“Alright.”

“Okay?”

“Alright,” Ellie repeated, her annoyance shifting into amusement. Maria reflected her smile and patted her shoulder before she strode off down the street. Damn it, she loved Maria. A small part of her acknowledged that her vague imagination of her mother was shaped largely by her relationship with Maria.

The clinic was quiet that morning, but Ellie knew better than to say those words. Doc Jons had been around long enough to finish his medical training before Outbreak, and he was as superstitious as they came in his clinic.

“You look tired,” he said.

“So do you, old man,” Ellie replied lightly. “How’s your blood sugar?”

“Not as regulated as it should be, and that’s not changing.”

“What’s on the docket today?”

“I have Zora coming in a little later. She’ll go out with me to check on Hal’s kids.” He leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh. “I thought I’d send you to the barn this morning. Is that agreeable?”

The priority of the health of Jackson was always its citizens, but there was something rewarding in treating the animals. Maybe it just showed they had the resources to do it, maybe it was the intent to ease suffering in more ways than butchering their sick or hurt animals.

The old man had always been able to read her, and he smiled now. “Take the box with you. Remember you’re on call if Lacey goes into labor. Go. Enjoy yourself.”

* * *

The barn was busy that morning. Jackson’s herd had a staggered rotation of unshod and shod times during the year. Through it all, they needed foot work at least every six weeks. Jackson worked the cattle too, though the cattle were never happy to see humans. In general, the horses were pretty well behaved.

Teb and Mark were the main farriers of Jackson. Ellie had trained under them tentatively for about half a year, and now they greeted her with a laugh and calls of, “Hey, the prodigal daughter returns! You gonna trim up a few feet with us?”

“I have to do exams first, but I’ll be around.”

“Come here,” Teb commanded. Back when Ellie had first worked for him, it had taken weeks to get used to his taciturn nature. Now she just did as he asked. He reviewed the horses on their list that day. A few needed their shoes removed and even more needed hoof checks and trims. All the horses but Bronco were gentle and easily handled, though Japan was having issues with laminitis on one of his feet.

“You got Bronco this morning,” Teb said to Ellie.

“You’re joking.”

Teb just raised his brow, his bottom lip jutting out. He didn’t have chaw when he worked, but his mouth never forgot the shape it’d take with tobacco in his lip. The look, as ridiculous as it was, meant he wasn’t budging. Damn it, Ellie liked the man.

Bronco was aptly named, and he made her nervous. Damn, did the gelding hate his feet messed with. A twitch wasn’t even close to being enough with him. They’d have to dip into their chemical supply to get him woozy enough to safely control. Good thing she’s brought her tackle box.

Ellie sighed heavily as she stared at the gray gelding. She took a minute to pull her hair back into a short ponytail. “You’re going to make me miss my son’s fifth birthday.”

“That ain’t for a few weeks.”

“Because I’ll be dead when this damn horse kicks my face in,” she continued, earning Mark’s eye roll.

She did Bronco’s physical, then drew up and administered a cocktail of drugs into Bronco's neck. While they waited for him to ‘cook’ as Doc Jons put it, they worked on a few other horses. Ellie performed physicals on the horses—jotting her notes in her journal—before the farriers got to work on their feet. Teb had her do at least one foot on each horse, “So you don’t forget how.”

Eventually, Bronco’s lips were drooping and his head was low. Now it was time to get ‘er done, as Mark liked to say. Ellie rolled up her sleeves, reached for her tools, and nodded to Teb, who applied the lip twitch. At least Mark did her the courtesy of being nearby just in case. Though Bronco did little in protest while Ellie divested him of his shoes and trimmed his feet up, Ellie was covered in a nervous sweat by the time all four feet were done. His shoes were some of the last to go during their shod/unshod cycle for a reason.

Teb and Mark congratulated her with heavy back slaps, and Ellie pretended she didn’t give a damn about their praise. She missed working with them, missed being in the barn.

“Guess you’re still making it to that birthday party, huh?” Mark teased as he led Bronco back to his stall.

Ellie listened intently as Teb explained his process while he worked on Japan’s problem foot. They’d have to get the portable radiology unit out to take a shot of his toe, but it would probably be when all the horses got their dentals. She loved those days. Ellie stroked Japan’s neck after she led the gelding back into his stall, and Japan nibbled at her sleeve. She breathed in his clean scent and murmured, “You’re sweet like your owner.”

She spent a few minutes brushing and offering treats to her horse. Raisin was decidedly different than Shimmer—more fat Morgan attitude than Shimmer had in one Quarter Horse toe—but she was still as good a horse as Ellie could hope for. It certainly didn’t hurt to stay on her good side with a little pampering.

By the time Ellie washed her hands and face and packed up her tackle box—getting shit from the barn crew for turning in early—she had only a couple minutes to spare to drop off her materials and physical exam notes to the clinic. Right on time, Ellie kicked off her boots on Maria’s porch and perched on the arm of her couch.

“Short one this week,” Maria announced in her living room. “First, Ellie, I need you to put in writing the patrols for spring. We need to review who goes where and when.”

Sometimes she felt thrust into leadership for the lack of a better option. Ellie didn’t run patrols often, but Maria seemed to think she was the best qualified person to schedule them for everyone else. Then again, this winter she was out nearly every other week, much to Dina and JJ’s dismay. The hordes were especially bad this year. While the summer months allowed for infrequent paired patrols, she’d started putting larger groups together through winter.

“Yeah. I’ll get it to you by next week.” She glanced around, acknowledging the few of her patrollers in attendance. “Let me know if your team or time doesn’t work. Can’t promise to change it, but we’ll figure it out. Bonnie, can you spread word we’ll be meeting sometime next week to go over the rest of our winter schedule? Wednesday, maybe?”

“Sure, Cap,” Bonnie replied. Then she grinned and winked. “Mind scheduling me without Chad? Tired of his shitty attitude.”

Chad, Bonnie’s husband, only rolled his eyes in reply, dropping his arm over her shoulders with enough emphasis to encourage chuckles all around.

Maria moved on to trading. Ellie presumed she was supposed to stay for all of this when Maria’s glare put her ass back in her seat. Then she realized Doc Jons had told her to request vaccines for tetanus and rabies and brought that up. Maria reminded Ellie to grab a list from their armorer about ammunition needs. She’d have to talk to Ichi about that.

Her part done, Ellie tried to stay engaged for the whole meeting. In her journal, Ellie wrote the request for patrols and ammunition estimations. Then she spent some time sketching Maria’s face. By the end of the half-hour, she’d managed to capture Maria’s checkered collar too. Maria went down the bullet list of items efficiently: infected hordes, expected traders and their usual supplies, hunting rules, the reminder to send food to Ryan’s family in light of his recent illness. She wrapped up, noting the usual town meeting would be held Sunday night.

“And I expect all of you there,” said Maria with a particularly long look at Ellie.

Ellie hesitated on the porch of Maria’s house. She had a few minutes before Seth’s lesson and wasn’t eager to loiter in the loud lunch crowd of the Tipsy Bison. Instead, she turned the opposite direction and crossed two streets. She kicked the snow and mud off her boots before walking up to the porch of the house Cat shared with her family.

Just a few moments after Ellie’s knock, Cat’s mother opened the door with a smile. “Ellie, what a surprise!”

“Hey, Susan. Is Cat in?”

“In her studio.”

“I’ll just walk around then.”

“Do you want some tea or a snack?”

“No thanks. I have a lesson.” Cat’s mother had a thing about feeding her…as did most of Jackson. Ellie had complained about it to Tommy once, who laughed and said she was too damn skinny for her own good. To Susan, Ellie promised, “I’ll try to find time to stop by next week.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Tell me what day, and bring your beautiful family.”

“Promise,” she said. When Susan smiled, Ellie did too. She liked the woman, liked her husband too, liked her daughter even more. She even liked Cat’s annoying little brother.

Ellie backed off the steps and rounded the house. Cat’s studio was situated in an outfitted garage in the backyard. It was a building Joel had put up almost single-handedly. It was because of Joel that Ellie really got to know Cat. The thought made her smile, then melancholy and love came as one when she remembered Joel’s quiet, “She’d be lucky to have you.”

Maybe she’d have time to visit him this evening; his flowers probably needed changing.

Ellie collected herself in front of the studio door and listened. Cat was in the throes of artistic revelation given the classic rock blaring behind the door.

Ellie knocked twice, not surprised when Cat didn’t answer. She opened the door, shouting over the electric guitar solo. Cat saw her out of her peripheral vision and gasped. Her brush flicked, and Ellie stared down at the yellow splash across her boots.

“Sorry!” they both shouted at the same time.

Cat trotted across the room to turn off her music. The building was stifling from the electric heater in the corner. Ellie eyed it dubiously. Somehow that thing hadn’t burned the place down yet.

“Your shoes!” Then Cat cocked her head and offered a sly grin. “Actually, they’re better now.”

She was right; the color added personality to her leather boots.

“You working on something?”

“Come in. Don’t worry about the floor.”

Ellie stepped up beside Cat and sighed unconsciously as she studied the half-finished landscape. It was a large canvas, beautiful and open already. She knew Cat and her art well enough to see the lines and movement among the bold swaths of color. Ellie loved drawing and painting subjects, and she dabbled at best painting a landscape centered around a house or tree, but there was something awe-inspiring about Cat’s wide-open landscapes. Ellie figured the woman could convey the expanse of the entire Rocky Mountain range on one canvas.

“It’s good.”

“High praise from you,” Cat replied with an impish grin. Her dark eyes lingered on Ellie’s face as her smile softened. “What brings you by?”

“Can I bum some paint off of you? I need more red.”

“Working on my suggestion?”

“Yeah. If you ever need a skull, ask Wes. His workroom is fucking scary.”

Cat studied Ellie a moment longer before she let it go. She used to push harder when she wanted more information; that had been one of her most annoying characteristics. “Red, huh? What kind?”

“Oil. Bright. I can just take the pigment if you don’t have any made up.”

“I’ve seen the paint you make,” Cat teased. She confirmed the shade and scooped a generous amount into a small tin. Ellie offered her a smile, ignoring Cat’s lingering touch on her wrist. Cat was the only person in Jackson more tactile than Dina. “Thanks.”

“Come by more often, stranger,” was Cat’s final reply. Ellie paused on the threshold. She nodded. “Yeah, I just might.”

“And say ‘hi’ to Dina and JJ for me.”

* * *

Seth was shit with music, and he didn’t practice between their weekly lessons. Ellie could understand why: he was shit and he was busy. At least he didn’t take his frustrations out on her; sometimes she wanted nothing more than to take her frustrations out on him.

Ellie played a series of chords for him again, singing the lyrics because why not? Seth’s overgrown white brow gathered as he watched. “How do you do that with your thumb? Your fingers move so fast.”

“Don’t watch me. Look at the paper. You have four fingers; I only have two.”

Ellie went so far as to place his fingers on the frets for each chord, and he got it the next time around. Ellie replayed it, humming as she added the next set of chords of the song, and Seth’s brow gathered again. “How is it that I have twice your fingers and sound half as good?”

 _Because you fucking suck._ “I have a lot more than twice as much practice,” she replied instead, as dryly as possible. If it had been his son, Greg, she would have cracked a dirty joke about lesbian fingering finesse. Greg was her favorite patrol partner in part because he could take a joke. However, lesbian fingering was definitely not a safe topic with Seth.

She owed Dina for their make-out session this morning, didn’t she? Once, she would dread it only for her concern about not pleasing Dina. Hell, in the darkest moments before Santa Barbara, she’d imagined Dina faked her pleasure. Now Ellie actually anticipated sex. Good damn thing she’d shoved her left hand in Abby’s mouth instead her dominant one.

If she ever saw Abby again—surely in hell—she’d tell her that.

Then, as always happened when she thought of Abby, she felt a deep, unpleasant gnawing grind of curiosity and guilt.

“Well, I’ll have to practice more another day,” Seth replied.

Ellie was grateful he abbreviated both their suffering. She packed up both guitars and wasn’t surprised when Seth emerged from the busy kitchen with a plate of food. He set it in front of her, and Ellie’s stomach immediately reminded her it existed. She’d probably finish half of what he’d portioned her.

“Beer?” he offered hopefully.

Maybe it was because she’d endured a month of these awkward lessons or maybe it was the years of his strange kindness. Hell, maybe it was her dark mood that compelled her to say, “You don’t owe me anything, Seth.”

“I didn’t pay ahead this week,” was his distracted reply.

“Not what I mean.”

Seth looked up from inside the storage room. She read fear on his face, but Seth’s voice was firm. “You didn’t deserve that. What I said that night, and then what happened with Joel…”

Christ? Did he think she spent a single moment of her life worried about his slur?

“Let it go.”

His stare was so direct it felt confrontational. “I was wrong about you. And about Dina. Hell, you girls have a stronger relationship than a lot of the normal couples around Jackson.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, and part of her was amused to see Seth replay the words in his head and backtrack. “I mean, married…” He paused again. “…men and women.”

“I’ll give you a minute to get your foot out of your mouth.”

Instead of taking the bait of her humor, he stepped into his office and sat down beside her. Whatever Seth had to say was important to him; Ellie regretted bringing the whole thing up. All good intentions and whatever.

“She was so broken up when she came back to Jackson with just that baby, and…” He shook his head as Ellie turned her eyes away, feeling the rough tug of guilt for causing that.

“No one had to say anything, but I saw. When you got back, you worked at it. To be a good mother and wife.” His jaw jerked. “My old man was a soldier back before Outbreak. He brought the war back with him. Fell in the bottle, screamed and cried, and he’d hurt himself on the worst days. One day, he shot himself. It wasn’t his fault; I’m not saying that, but...” Seth’s eyes went glassy, and he licked his lips. “I don’t know what you saw or did, but I do know you worked to get better. Lord knows you don’t care what I think, but I admire you for that.”

Fucking hell. Ellie cleared her throat and turned her gaze to her hands, smoothing her thumb across the pads of her fingers. It took her a few moments to find her voice. She was poised to brush off his words with a short ‘thanks’ but instead admitted, “I made a lot of mistakes.”

“You’re only human.”

“Guess I’m still just trying to be better at that too. Seth…” So much for the short response. Her next word wasn’t as empty as she planned. “Thanks.”

She saw him nod out the corner of her eye, heard his clear his throat, then thankfully, Seth resumed his activity in the kitchen. Ellie finished her meal in silence, uncertain at the quietness inside. When she set her plate on his desk, she took care to look him in the eye. “Same time next week?”

“I’ll practice this time.”

“I’m not holding my breath,” she replied with a smile. He returned it.

When she walked out of the kitchen to the bar—ignoring one of her patroller’s heckles about her cooking—the door to the bar opened. Ellie glanced at the clock and slid onto a free stool, offering Tommy a smile as he lumbered up and patted her shoulder. Seth tapped the whiskey bottle in question, and Tommy nodded. A drop of water accompanied a few fingers of whiskey, and Tommy took a sip with a sigh.

“Want one?” he asked her.

“No. Thanks.”

“You still on that shit?”

Anti-depressants, he meant. He didn’t mean anything by it, but it was hard to ignore the implication of his words. A big step in her thinking was considering her medication as essential as Doc Jons’ insulin. She rested her elbow on the bar and shook her head. “Not anymore. I’m taking JJ out riding in a few. Better not.”

“Suit yourself.” Tommy took another sip and relaxed bit by bit. “How you doing?”

When Dina asked that question, she wanted a real answer, but Tommy was just saying he cared. “Okay. You?”

“Okay,” he replied, but his smile was warm, and Ellie reflected it. He was still at the barracks and unlikely to leave them at all now. Tommy had spurned Maria’s attempts to set him up in his own house, saying he didn’t need all the damn empty space. He had a family of his own with the traveling traders and few men that lived there year ‘round. Still, she knew he got as lonely as she did.

“We should take the mountain pass this spring, pick off some infected, and make a night of it.”

“That sounds real nice.” He pointed with the hand holding his whiskey, his grin slow. “But only if you bring that guitar of yours.”

“Deal.” Ellie patted his arm as she slipped off the stool. Tommy’s hand over hers paused her exit. He met her gaze with his good eye. “Give that son of yours a kiss from his uncle.”

She’d invite him to dinner, but Tommy was the only person in all of Jackson not welcome at Dina’s dinner table. That was one rift Ellie couldn’t bridge. Funny that Dina would forgive her for leaving but she couldn’t forgive Tommy for arming Ellie with the information she’d needed to do it. She’d never had the heart to tell him the truth about Santa Barbara, but what the hell did it matter?

As the door to the Tipsy Bison closed behind her, she wondered if Joel had thought the same thing about his lie to her.

* * *

JJ was trying to balance on the fence—the high one. Ellie watched under the eaves of the daycare, both certain he should have this experience and terrified he’d fall and break his neck. On the second attempt, he managed to get up on the fence. Then he wobbled, flailed his arms, gasped in fear, and fell straight back.

Shit. Ellie sprinted forward two steps and slid on her knees in the packed snow to cushion him. His head landed against her chest, and he sprawled in her lap. Then he laughed when he saw her. Not hurt, then.

“You scared the shit out of me, kiddo.” She rubbed her chest, her fear sparking a beat of adrenaline.

“Mom! That was so cool!” He turned in her arms to give her a quick hug before he was up on his feet, bouncing with excitement. “Are we going now?”

Ellie brushed herself off as she stood. She handed him his backpack, which he shrugged on without protest. Ellie reached out to touch the elephant Dina had embroidered onto the back pocket. Ellie’s own backpack had a new moth on its outer-most pouch.

JJ’s hand was still so small in hers, even though he seemed to grow visibly every day. He waved and shouted goodbye to his friends before disengaging from Ellie to hug two of them. Then he was back, his excitement evident as he swung on her hand. “Horses, horses, horses,” he sang.

“What did the mare say to her foal?”

JJ looked up at her with a grin. He shook his head, always so eager to hear the punchline. Ellie paused for dramatic effect. “Go to bed, baby, it’s pasture bedtime.”

At least her son laughed at her jokes. He was about the only person in Jackson who did.

When they arrived at the barn, Rainbow had been turned out in the riding arena. She was one of the sweetest ponies of their bunch, and she loved nothing more than a lesson with a kid. JJ accepted his helmet, frowning in concentration as he snapped it on. With more ease than he put on his helmet, JJ saddled and bridled Rainbow. Ellie interrupted him to move the saddle forward a smidge, but he buckled it without help. Then he stood on Rainbow’s left side, took hold of the reins, and mounted her easily.

He was a natural. Ellie had had him in the saddle with her before he could even sit up on his own; horses were a part of his life. More practically, it helped he was already tall for his age. The stirrups weren’t much of a reach.

For the next half hour, Ellie alternated between walking with him as he directed Rainbow and stepping back while he led her up into a canter. They’d been working with Rainbow for a few weeks on the canter, and now she trusted herself and her rider enough to keep the pace for as long as JJ asked.

They would start jumping soon. Hopefully JJ would remember to bring his patience. It wasn’t going to be a fast process.

Eventually, Ellie called for JJ to stop and lead the pony back into the barn. He didn’t need reminding to take care of Rainbow and his tack. He giggled when Rainbow turned to nibble at him as he brushed her down. Ellie let it slide when he gave the pony another treat. Ellie was content to hum and nod at intervals during his happy chatter about his day. Her journal was in hand as she perched on the stall door, capturing his dark head of curly hair and his sweet grin as Rainbow nuzzled his face and hands. Ellie saw so much of Dina in his happy expression.

“Ellie.”

She glanced over at the sharp command, taking in Greg and Irina and Maria standing behind them. Greg and Irina were both suited up for patrol, and the look of fear on Irina’s face made Ellie’s chest flush cold. Ellie snapped her journal shut and slid it in JJ’s backpack.

“JJ? Finish up with Rainbow.”

He glanced over, saw the adults, and stopped talking. Ellie hated that he knew enough to be worried when she was called out on patrol. He was a smart enough kid to catch on when Dina went quiet in worry, and he absorbed that emotion himself. He knew what this group of adults was here for, and his happiness shifted into sullenness as he walked out of the stall. He stood with his back to them, his arms crossed, every bit his mother right then.

“What’s going on?”

“Irina’s group ran into a horde,” Maria supplied quietly, her gaze caught on JJ.

That patrol had the Teton County loop; a horde up there wasn’t unheard-of, especially this time of year. Irina nodded jerkily. “Gene’s stuck in…” She paused, and her voice caught. Irina’s tears alarmed Ellie. This woman was generally composed.

“What happened?”

“Sorry, just overwhelmed.” Irina cleared her throat and wiped her face. “Gene’s stuck in the Baldwin place.”

The simmering impending doom of the day closed its fingers around her throat and settled around her like a dark shadow. Ellie took a deep breath around it, reminding herself that it was just a place, and that the human lives at stake were more important than her fears. She counted to three before meeting Irina’s gaze. “But you got out okay?”

“They led them off of me, and I rode back as fast as my horse could go.”

Irina was experienced, and Gene even more so. They were a formidable pair on patrol—hence Ellie had only attached the newcomer, Leo, to their winter patrols—and for them to get caught out raised her concern. Yet, between the three of them—five if they got Gene and Leo into a helpful position—they would be fine. Ellie glanced at Greg, who gave her a steady look. She turned back to Irina. “How many?”

“A dozen. We can take them between us, but I was… I was out of ammo.”

“Maria, can you take JJ home for me?”

The pout on JJ’s face burned. Ellie squeezed his shoulder, but he didn’t lean into her. He wiped at his face angrily to hide his tears, and that broke her damn heart. Ellie sank to her knees. “Hey, I’ll be fine, Potato.”

“You promised you’d stay.”

Out of the mouth of babes. Disappointing him hurt her soul. “I have to help. I’ll be home tomorrow, and we’ll have our movie night then. Okay? Go with Maria, and be good for Mama.”

His nod was short, and he was stiff in her hug. Ellie kissed his cheek and breathed him in. Then she stood, firming in her mindset. Greg and Irina were waiting for her at the east gate, and she strode to them purposefully.

* * *

A couple summers previous, Ellie went out on a short hunting trip with a few of her patrollers. Teton region had already been swept for infected just days prior, and it was low season anyway. This was their reward for a successful, safe year. It wasn’t rutting season, but hunting in the summer was far safer than waiting for the fall. Ellie had only hoped for a deer, but she stalked and shot a massive bull elk. Her arrow sank deep in its chest, but it led her on a chase before it finally collapsed.

Not a good shot, but it had ended up doing the job.

She’d lost the group—or they lost her—but her main worry was losing the elk’s meat from the heat and the brief chase. The solitude was actually nice. All she had was her horse and the dead elk. The wind rustled the brush, and a small creek nearby burbled peacefully. Ellie was the loudest part of it all, her breaths coming heavy as she gutted her kill.

Halfway through butchering the bull, she glanced down at herself and the blood that coated her up to her elbows. This was a hard job alone. She smiled as she remembered the hunting trip with Joel their second summer in Jackson. He’d shown her how to do all this a lot more efficiently than she’d done previously.

She wiped her jaw with the back of her hand and studied the elk beneath her. “You’d be proud of this one, Joel.”

Next time she’d see if Tommy wanted a gander in the woods with her. He’d probably like long-range rifle hunting, and if they could get his horse up to their kill, she figured he could help her dress out the animal, something he’d like.

She took a moment to sharpen her knife. James had given her the knife and sheath to replace her mother’s switchblade—probably still buried on that beach in Santa Barbara—for her first birthday back in Jackson. That had been a good day.

With the elk dismantled, the hide rolled up, skull and antlers lashed to her bag, and the meat and choice organs in mesh bags draped over Raisin’s saddle bags, Ellie mounted up and led her horse back uphill. She found the road without issue, knowing by the dented mile marker sign she was quite a ways north of Jackson. She’d be lucky to make it back before nightfall unless she pushed Raisin. Hopefully the others weren’t wasting their time looking for her.

Within half an hour, she eyed threatening high thunderclouds that rolled in without warning. Summer storms in Jackson could be blisteringly bad, and she hadn’t been riding Raisin long enough to know if the horse could handle thunder without bucking her off.

Dina would tell her to hole up, not to be reckless.

Ellie was still pondering whether to follow that imaginary advice when the first hailstone struck the ground. That decided her immediately. She urged on Raisin ahead of the storm, but it overtook them before they hit shelter. Hail pelted Ellie’s shoulders and head through her jacket—making Raisin’s skin flinch with each strike—and Raisin’s movements were becoming more erratic.

If she could just make it a little longer…

Lightning struck a tree across the road, and Ellie nearly lost her seat as Raisin bolted. By the time she got her horse under control again, she realized she had to choose between the Baldwin place or getting thrown from her horse.

It was a harder choice than it should have been.

“It’s just a fucking house,” she whispered to herself, urging Raisin through the open gates. Ellie dismounted to yank up the garage door, pulling Raisin into it and dropping the door back again, leaving just a crack at the bottom so she could see outside. She took one step towards the door to the main house and stopped.

The thing about fear was it helped when it was needed: in the face of a lunging clicker or when her foot slipped on a cliff or as a stallion lifted his leg to kick. Standing in a garage with her horse and several hundred pounds of elk meat and hide, there was no fucking reason for fear.

Yet fear overtook her, raised sweat on her body, and made her heart race and her breath catch. Ellie wrapped her arms around herself and gasped, crouched low with her head between her knees. All the things Doc Jons had told her to do to combat her inappropriate fear responses didn’t work, not in this place that carried such emotional weight.

The smell of blood on her arms made her gag, and she could taste iron as her saliva thickened. Her skin ached, feeling like it was stretched tight over jagged edges. She rubbed her forearm and squeezed, releasing a gasping groan.

Ellie wallowed in this horrific physiologic response, shaking with every clap of thunder, waiting to see Joel, to hear him gag and groan, to hear the dull sound of the club crushing his skull. The visions didn’t come, but they didn’t need to, not when she was living in the terror and grief of this place.

By the time the rain eased off, Ellie was shaking and crying. She dragged Raisin out into the residual rain, mounted, and pushed the mare hard, as if she could outrun the fear that closed over her like a cloak. It had been so long since she’d felt like this that she wondered how she’d focused through it before.

By the time she arrived at Jackson’s gates, Raisin was thoroughly lathered and frothing around her bit. Yet they hadn’t outrun Ellie’s fear. She sensed it would be her constant companion, and she couldn’t guess how long it would take before it left her behind again.

She would never willing set foot in that place again. She couldn’t afford to.

* * *

It took an hour of hard riding to approach the Baldwin place. They saw no infected on the way. Ellie slowed their pace, listening for infected and trying to scent them on the air. Sometimes she could smell them: sweet, pungent musk and blood. Aside from a startled coyote, nothing moved in the streets.

“Where did you pick up the horde?”

Irina was crying again, and her voice trembled. “Uh, north of the place.”

Ellie and Greg exchanged concerned looks. North was thick woods, a place they rarely patrolled. There was only a narrow path that led to an overlook that their snipers sometimes used to pick off infected from the distance, but it was surrounded by cliffs that rarely allowed access to single infected, let alone a horde.

Watching Irina closely, Ellie asked, “What were you doing up there?”

“Irina, what’s going on?” Greg asked at the same time.

“We were shocked too. We never get a horde up that way, but somehow they came through.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes, offering a tight smile.

“Greg, why don’t you post up on the overlook hill? I could use your rifle up there.”

Greg gave Ellie one look to confirm her order and did exactly as she asked—another thing that made him a reliable patrol partner—turning his horse to retrace their steps at a gallop. Some of the anxiety that was clawing at her neck eased when she watched him go. Nothing about this felt right, and Ellie had the responsibility to keep these people safe.

“Let’s cut through from the east—”

The sound of a hammer turned her gaze back. Irina had her revolver raised, and her hands shook as she aimed at Ellie. How she could see through her tears was a mystery. Irina’s voice shook. “I’m sorry.”

Impending doom reminded Ellie it was here, but in this situation, she had to trust it was reality, not her mind fucking with her. All Ellie could wonder was if she’d wronged Irina somehow. The woman had lived in Jackson for nearly four years. Had she been involved with the WLF? Why had she waited this long?

But fuck, even if Ellie deserved this, she wasn’t going to roll over and die.

Ellie raised her hands, ducking her head in the face of Irina’s gun. In the same move, she kicked her horse cruelly, and Raisin shot out under her, bucking before bursting into a gallop. Ellie flinched when she heard the retort of Irina’s weapon. She turned to look over her shoulder at Irina urging her horse to give chase.

There was no horde. Ellie wondered if Gene or Leo was even still alive.

A bullet kicked up snow beside Raisin as they rode hard. Fuck Irina. Ellie was better on a horse than her. If she rode past the Baldwin gates, there was a path to the woods to the north, and she could lose Irina there by skirting the cliffs to sweep around and head back south. If she had to, she’d shoot the woman.

Then the alien sound of a large vehicle came from one side, and an immeasurable force crushed Raisin and tore Ellie out of the saddle. She bounced off of something hard and lay stunned in the snow. Raisin screamed a shriek of death. Ellie’s ears rang; it felt as if her head had been separated from her body like a doll. She lifted her face from the bloody snow beneath her and tried to get her arms under her. Ellie dragged herself to her knees, staggering to her feet before her right ankle when out from under her in a jolt of pain. Her pack was lying in the snow at least ten yards away. She needed her weapons, especially when Irina dismounted just down the street and approached on foot.

But Irina’s hands were raised, free of weapons. “I brought her just like you ask—”

Irina’s head exploded in time with a shotgun retort. It was one of the few gunshot wounds to the head that didn’t allow that split second of surprise to shine through before death. Just alive, then pulp.

Someone heavy landed on Ellie’s lower back, pinning her to the snow. The cold press of a gun on the back of her neck froze her. The man sitting on her said, “She’s hot.”

A scanner. It was a goddamn scanner. These people had been looking for her; if they knew to scan her, they knew she was immune.

“Check her arm.”

There were at least two pairs of legs nearby, clad in military boots and blue fatigues. FEDRA? WLF?

The man over her cut her right sleeve open, tearing through Joel’s coat like it was nothing. The knife nicked her skin carelessly. His bare hand brushed her tattoo. “It’s her. Intel was good.”

Then he yanked the wedding band off of Ellie's right index finger, turning it over in his hand in the sunlight. “Nice.”

The man’s weight shifted, and in the moment of his inattention, she used every effort to buck him off. He tipped sideways, falling onto his ass. She caught his wrist as she scrambled on him, using her weight to shove his knife into his neck.

He groaned around it, his blood coming in a hot rush. His eyes were clear brown. Ellie felt no satisfaction; this was pragmatic, a necessary move to get the fuck away. She had to get away now before she was overwhelmed.

“Ben!” someone shouted nearby.

Before Ellie could do more than lunge over the dead soldier, her entire body locked up in paralyzing agony. Distantly, she noted an alien buzzing sound. Ellie collapsed into the snow with a groan of pain she’d never heard from herself. A hood was yanked over her head, and her arms and legs were bound. The pain stopped abruptly; everything ached but seemed to function again. She struggled, attempted to kick, and got another jolt of agonizing pain. The sound of a squeaky door preempted her being thrown into the back of the vehicle that had just killed her horse. By the time she could move again, she’d been chained tight to the wall of the vehicle.

When it started moving, she rested her head on the floor of the truck and tried to process what the fuck had just happened.

She only asked one question before her hood was removed and she was gagged. Ellie chewed on the cloth, her gaze tracking around quickly. There were three soldiers—and the dead one—in the back of the truck, and one wall was branded with the letters: FEDRA. She got a brief look at their uniforms and the patches on their shoulders before they yanked the hood back on.

Fuck. She’d killed an Enforcer.

Ten years ago, she would never have believed she could. Riley had talked Enforcers up as FEDRA badass motherfuckers, trained to kill Fireflies, deserters, and criminals alike. Professional military bounty hunters.

She could guess why they wanted her, but why _now_?

Her arms cramped in agony from their tightly bound position behind her back. Her face was scraped and bruised, one eye swelling closed, her ankle ached, and her shoulder hurt like fuck. She tried to ignore her complaints—all superficial wounds—but as terror enveloped her, it only compounded her physical pain. She couldn’t find a scrap of bravado as she was confronted with the very real possibility of losing her life so FEDRA could harvest her brain.

What had once seemed the ultimate sacrifice was no longer that. Her life, her family, her son… She’d just fucking promised JJ she’d be home. Would they even know what happened?

Ellie curled up and pressed her forehead on her knees as she gave into the selfish need to wallow in the inevitability of her situation.

* * *

The only time she ever considered telling Dina the truth about how close the world had gotten to a cure was a little over a year prior.

Jackson liked its holidays, many of which it borrowed from the old world. One of JJ’s favorites was Halloween. When JJ was three, he’d asked to be a cowboy, ‘Like Mommy!’ Ellie had given up her apprenticeship with Jackson’s farriers that year, and despite knowing it shouldn’t, JJ’s declaration made her feel like a failure.

Dina had dressed JJ up in a button down, tiny leather boots, jean jacket—embroidered beautifully of course—and a wide-brimmed hat. He’d even worn a wooden pistol in a holster on his skinny leg. James and Robin fashioned JJ a horse on a stick, and JJ played with that thing for nearly a year. When the cloth horse head finally fell off, it became a rifle or a sword, depending on the need.

They walked him down Jackson’s Main Street, where he sampled more sweets than Ellie even knew existed. Ellie had participated in this Jackson festivity a few times before, mainly because Dina or Cat dragged her out to wander around the brightly lit stores and so-called haunted houses. It was a lot more fun with JJ and his boundless excitement. The only thing that drew her startled discomfort this year was the rubber wolf and monster masks that a couple of laughing kids wore.

They arrived back home late enough for JJ to yawn his head off, but Ellie had a special treat planned for him. She’d brought some chocolate off of a trader the week before—trading her favorite pair of Chucks for it—and broke him off a small wedge. His eyes went wide as it melted in his mouth. That was nothing on his expression when he tasted hot chocolate a few minutes later.

He was grumpy by the time he went to bed, but it had been a good night. Ellie returned downstairs to discover Robin, James, and Dina enjoying a nightcap. She joined them.

As they sipped their whiskey, James and Robin talked about their memories of Halloween. The best story of the night was the one about Jesse had scaring the shit out of Maria as a kid with a clever prank. Just Robin’s description of Maria’s expression had them all laughing. James and Robin held hands and shared a sweet smile. Their love for each other was so damn sappy. Ellie would be lying to herself if she pretended not to idolize their relationship.

Ellie contemplated her whiskey as she was confronted with her own memories of Boston and Riley. Those masks tonight were sharp reminders. She could still remember the smell of rubber, the taste of Riley’s lips, and the agony of the certainty of death.

“Are you okay, Ellie?” Robin asked, her brow drawn in concern.

“She just hates Halloween,” Dina replied.

Nine times out of ten, Ellie would have let Dina brush it off for her. Tonight, she felt the strange need to air it out. “Not really… Just...” She knew they were all looking at her, but she kept her gaze on her whiskey tumbler. “My best friend, Riley, she snuck me into a mall in Boston QZ. We fooled around, put on Halloween masks, and…”

“What happened?”

“A horde. She got infected.” Ellie touched her right forearm unconsciously. Dina didn’t miss the gesture. Robin and James murmured their condolences. She put on a smile and said, “But tonight was good. I haven’t seen JJ that hyper in months. He’s gonna be a pain tomorrow.”

Her words were met with immediate agreement, enough so for James to reach over and tap his glass to hers.

As they got ready for bed, Dina quietly asked, “Was that when you were bit?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you see her turn?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Ellie…” Dina abandoned washing her face to sit on the bed beside her. She brushed hair behind Ellie’s ear, and Ellie gathered herself to meet Dina’s gentle gaze. “I found her Firefly tag that time, didn’t I?”

Ellie nodded wordlessly. Dina pressed a gentle kiss to Ellie’s neck. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It was just so hard. Fuck, that’s selfish.”

“How is it selfish? Of course you’re going to feel something about her death.”

“She told me… ‘Why don’t we just lose our minds together?’ I used to feel like I was just waiting for my turn. So many people died, Dina. They died for me, and nothing came of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“My immunity. It should mean something, right?”

Dina’s gaze was gentle, but she studied Ellie closely. “Why do you think it doesn’t?”

Ellie shook her head, unable to broach that truth that night. She should. Dina would have a good answer, but Ellie was too much of a coward to reveal something that would damn Joel in Dina’s eyes. “It just seemed like it had to be for something bigger, you know?”

“Seems pretty big to me. You’re here, aren’t you?”

 _Accept praise. Accept declarations of love. Trust Dina. Don’t reflect poor self-esteem._ She gathered all the things she’d been working on for years and put them into practice. Ellie raised her gaze and offered Dina a faint smile.

Dina reflected mild disapproval. She framed Ellie’s face in her hands and firmly stated, “I love you, and if all your immunity ever does is bring you to me, then that’s all it needs to do.”

Ellie turned to kiss Dina’s wrist, releasing her uneasiness with a sigh. “Love you too, babe.”

She’d begun to believe it, even to live Dina’s truth. And now…

She had no idea how long they drove, only that the truck stopped twice to refuel. Mercifully, they let her out to piss during the stops, even if she had to endure them pulling her pants down for her. The first time, she struggled hard enough to knock one of the men down, prompting raucous laughter from the other soldiers while Ellie lay on the ground locked up in agony from whatever weapon they kept using on her. The second time, she did exactly as they asked.

The third time the truck stopped, she heard the muffled sound of conversation from the front of the truck, and the back doors screamed as they opened. The sound turned her gut, but she pushed away the thought. Her skin ached in a way she hadn’t felt in months. There was a wash of heat and sunlight across her face before the doors slammed shut again.

The bang brought back Joel’s face, his short cry of pain, and she shook. When someone whistled outside, she pulled her knees up tight and pressed as hard as she could into the side of the truck, trying to gate her terror. She couldn’t breathe, especially around the gag. Her throat closed, and she folded onto herself as she tried to get the air she needed. She was going to die. She was dead. She was fucking dead.

She vomited, her puke going up her nose and caught around the gag, suffocating her.

“What the fuck?”

She struggled, unable to breathe, then someone yanked off her blindfold and gag. She spat and gagged and sucked in a ragged breath of air, coughing and shaking, tears streaming down her face from the pain in her sinuses and the pressure of her coughing.

“Better?” asked the solider leaning over her. He didn’t wait for her to stop coughing before yanking the hood back over her head. The cloth caught against her mouth as she sucked air, bringing the illusion of suffocation. This time, Ellie was able to reason with herself that she was getting enough air, especially after her coughing eased. She concentrated on breathing and keeping her chest open. Slowly, she counted.

By the time they stopped again, she was able to concentrate around her fear. Wherever they were was warm and dry by the feel of the air when the doors opened again. A soldier leaned over her and clearly said, “I’ve got my CEW in you. I’ll use it if you fuck around when we unchain you. Understand?”

A CEW, some kind of electric gun. She’d been threatened with one in Boston but never felt it before this situation. She nodded.

When he unchained her, she lurched at him and collapsed on the ground when he followed through on his threat. The pain cleared her head, bringing everything into abrupt focus. By the time her muscles worked again, her feet and hands had been shackled together without enough give to let her walk comfortably, even if her ankle weren’t messed up.

She realized she could see in sunlight. She tipped her head up to try to look through her thin hood, but she only noticed the vague outline of a big building. The dimness of the warehouse worked against her. She tried to keep track of the turns—right, left, locked doors, left—but by the time they got to the elevator, she was confused and disoriented.

She thought they went up, but it was impossible to be sure. She was dragged down another maze of hallways, shoved into a cushioned seat, and chained to it by her ankles and wrists. The soldiers pulled off her hood. When one of them lingered just a little too long, she sank her teeth into his hand and got several blows to the face in response. She sneered and jerked at her restraints.

The soldier she’d bitten gagged on the floor and was escorted out of the room by one of his companions, leaving Ellie with a couple Enforcers and two people in white lab coats. The ones in white coats sat next to each other and looked at her in open curiosity. They and their clothes were clean, pressed, and neat. The woman was small, and the man was large. Ellie heard her breath coming fast and hard, and she bared her bloodied teeth.

“Hello. Ellie T, is that right?” the man asked casually.

She jerked hard enough on her chair that it wobbled. She earned another jolt from the CEW that made her scream and arch. When they released her from it, she sank back into her seat and panted, tears tracking down the corner of her eyes.

“I know it must have been a difficult journey, but we ask you the courtesy of your cooperation,” the woman said. Her voice was low and melodious, and in any other circumstance, Ellie would consider it sexy.

“The fuck do you want?” she gasped, gazing at the ceiling.

“Please confirm your identity,” the man stated.

“Eat shit.”

They hit her with the CEW again, only stopping when the woman commanded, “Enough.”

“Fuck,” Ellie gasped. She’d pissed herself.

“What is your name?”

She couldn’t take another hit of that thing. She groaned, “Ellie.”

“Where were you born?”

“Boston QZ.”

“Is it true you survived infection?”

Of course. Of fucking course. “Yes.”

“Wonderful,” the woman interjected. “That’s enough for today. We’ll give you a little time to get cleaned up. Then we’ll get started.”

Ellie swallowed past the thickness in her throat. Her voice was rough. “Who are you?”

The woman delayed her exit. She approached within a few feet of Ellie and studied her down her nose. She had a laminated card clipped to her white lab coat, and a pair of glasses was tucked into the pocket behind it. She was surrealistically beautiful; her lips were full, her nose straight, her dark eyes surrounded by equally dark lashes. Her smile was out of place.

“I’m Dr. Tara S, and that is Dr. Jae N. We are the directors of CBI research within this QZ. I can’t express how happy I am to have this opportunity to work with you to advance our fight against Cordyceps.”

Ellie remained silent, gazing into the woman’s dark eyes until she turned away. As the woman put her hand on the door, Ellie said, “You have blood on your shoe.”

Tara immediately looked down at her feet with fear on her face. Her expression settled into neutrality after she studied her clean shoes. She flicked one finger, and Ellie jerked within her restraints as she was hit with another jolt. She sobbed as she was released this time. Tara looked over her shoulder and offered a snarl of a smile. “I hope I don’t have to reiterate how much I value cooperation, Ellie.”

* * *

She was hyperaware of the CEW still attached to her as the soldiers uncuffed her and helped her rise. They had no visible weapons that she could snatch, not that Ellie could imagine she’d get more than a finger on them before she was dropped to the floor.

They didn’t put her blindfold back on, but why the fuck would they need to? They walked her to an elevator that took them down two floors. They entered a narrow hallway where the men swapped the CEW while they each donned gas masks.

They marched her through a series of short rooms to enter a surprisingly quiet hallway. It was nearly as wide as Jackson’s barn. Coiled red hoses hung from the ceiling like the dripping remnants of a trap mine victim. The people moving within the hallway and rooms wore full-body orange suits.

When they unlocked a hallway off the main one, the ugly reality of this facility became clear. Half a dozen cells with prisoners just like her lined the hallway. Some of the prisoners hid when the Enforcers walked through; others sobbed at the front of their cells and begged to be let go, proclaiming innocence of whatever crime had put them here.

To the right were bright medical suites; a surgery was taking place in one. As Ellie watched, the person on the surgery table twitched within his restraints. The crown of his head had been draped in a wide sheet, hiding the surgeons. As she was dragged down the hallway, Ellie turned back to see what was hidden from immediate view. The surgeons had opened the top of their patient’s skull to access his brain and were taking pieces from it.

Fuck. She jerked her gaze away and shook. Her fear closed her throat and pushed tears to her eyes. Was that going to be her, losing a piece of herself with every cut?

The next corridor they entered was like a fever dream. The sounds of the prisoners behind them were nothing compared to the agony that assailed them as they stepped inside. Ellie smelled it then: the cloying scent of infection. These cells were divided from the hallway with clear barriers, and the prisoners within were either becoming infected or already infected. One of the first held a clicker that paced on the end of a chain and lurched at them when they walked by.

Another locked door, this time leading to a sterile laboratory. She could guess her destination at the opposite end of the closed room: a white-washed cell with a bed behind a clear wall. At intervals along the wall of the lab, misshapen objects floated within display jars. Infected heads, Ellie realized. All kinds. The worst were the ones that were still mostly human. She met the pickled gaze of a woman floating a few feet from her own face, and as the light shifted, only saw her own bruised, terrified reflection.

Ellie realized abruptly where all those missing people in Boston QZ went.

She’d been sucked into a goddamn black hole.


	3. Those that remain

Sometimes Dina wished she had the kind of work ethic that would allow her to retire officially from her duties in Jackson’s electrician guild. She’d loved the work back before her old partner retired. Though Dina enjoyed tinkering with hardware best—from small electronics to fixing up vehicles—she appreciated more practical applications within Jackson’s homes and residences. Idris had made it all fun. When Idris retired, her guild had replaced him with Jim, a man who strained her every last nerve, and Dina’s work lost some of its appeal.

Ellie’s reminder not to kill Jim stuck in her mind when he muttered under his breath and ignored her instruction. He’d come out to work on this house the day before, but now Dina had to spend the better part of her afternoon fixing his sloppy work. “Look, it’s one thing to half-ass the job, but this is dangerous.”

Her critique only made him roll his eyes. She wanted to tell him she was sorry for once again fixing his mess, but from previous experience, she knew that would do nothing. Instead, she took a deep breath and put all her focus into her task.

Residential work was generally nice. In this case, Sudha was kind enough to offer Dina a cup of tea once the job was done; that brightened her mood. She and Sudha talked briefly about their children while Dina filled out her required paperwork, knowing doing it herself would take less time than correcting Jim’s mistakes. Why the hell didn’t this asshole get booted to farming duty?

By the time Dina made it home, she decided she needed a drink, a hot bath, and a few kisses from her wife and son. Only Robin and James were home based on the boots by the door. The cat woke from her nap on the porch swing to stare, ready to run the moment Dina approached. Jerk.

“ _I_ feed you,” she muttered. As she toed off her boots, she raised her voice, “El back with JJ?”

“Nope,” James said from the upstairs landing.

“Must be having a good time,” Robin called from the kitchen.

If Dina had known they’d still be at the barn, she would have dropped by to watch her two cowboys at work. The fact that JJ idolized Ellie for her horsemanship warmed her; that boy would be following in Ellie’s footsteps one way or another. If Ellie weren’t so quiet about her apprenticeship with Doc Jons, JJ would be pretending to doctor all his toys.

Well, Dina would see them for dinner. It was her night to cook. Robin took a seat at the kitchen to keep her company when Dina told her in no uncertain terms that it was Robin’s night to rest.

“What’s your schedule tomorrow?”

“Half day, thank God,” Dina muttered.

“Jim annoying you still?”

The expression on Dina’s face was answer enough. Robin smiled warmly. “Does Ellie have the day off tomorrow?”

“I need to check with her. I assume she has a full day because she worked half today.”

“When do they work the herds again?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe next month?”

“She’ll want a bath every day that week.”

Dina rolled her eyes. “More like _we’ll_ want her to have a bath every day that week.”

Someone knocked at the door, and Robin got up to answer it. She said, “Hello, Maria.”

JJ’s pouting expression as Maria led him into the kitchen made Dina’s gut drop in a combination of anger and fear. Dina wiped her hands on a dishtowel, hugged her son, and told JJ to go upstairs and wash up. She’d been hungry as she’d worked on dinner, but her appetite fled. Before Maria could escape, she said, “Are you kidding me? She was just out two weeks ago!”

Maria’s expression was apologetic. “The Teton group ran into a horde. The men are stuck up in the Baldwin place.”

“What?” Dina gasped, her anger compounding with that knowledge. “You know as well as I do what kind of nightmare that place is to her!”

“Dina, she’ll be fine.”

Dina had half a dozen things to say to that, and Maria read every one of those things on Dina’s face. Maria’s wince didn’t draw any sympathy. How could a woman who lived with Ellie for nearly a year think any of this was okay? Dina shook her head slowly, and not for the first time, wanted to pack everything up to follow and protect. Why did it always have to be Ellie? Someone else could do this as well as her. “Who else went?”

“Greg. It was only a dozen or so.”

She jerked the oven open just to do something with her hands. “She should have taken more people out.”

“Dina, I’m sorry. But Ellie didn’t hesitate.”

“She never does.”

Dina remembered the raw look in Ellie’s eyes that morning, how distracted she’d been in their embrace. She’d been doing well, but that didn’t mean a nightmare couldn’t wreck her day, or hell, her week. Being called out on patrol with that hovering over her wasn’t good.

Yet Maria was probably right; Ellie would be back the next afternoon, worn out but whole, offering JJ a silly knickknack she’d found on the trail. She might have a restless night, but she’d stay in bed if Dina asked her to. Dina would wake when Ellie had a nightmare, and they’d talk it through with Ellie shaking on her shoulder. Dina would just have to be ready to pick up Ellie’s pieces and put them back in place like always.

Upstairs, Dina studied herself in the vanity, smoothing the worry from her face. Then she sighed in affectionate annoyance to see Ellie had dropped her guitar case against the corner. There was also a tin of oil paint sitting on the vanity because walking ten feet down the hall was too far apparently. Dina carried both into Ellie’s craft room. She noticed a canvas that was facing the wall and turned it around curiously. Red and brown swirled into a maelstrom centered around one small gray orb.

A Joel painting. Not her first and likely not her last.

Dina faced it towards the wall again, unease settling on her shoulders again.

If only it weren’t the Baldwin place. She vividly remembered Ellie arriving home to Jackson a few years ago, shaking and hollow-eyed, haunted and jittery for weeks. It had been a huge setback in her demeanor, nightmares, and flashbacks. All because she got caught in a storm and holed up in the Baldwin place. She admitted much later that she’d sat in the garage the entire time, unable to go any further into the house.

When Ellie told Dina that she wouldn’t be able to eat any of the meat she’d harvested that day, Dina traded the whole damn thing: antlers, hide, and flesh for a few smaller deer for their stores.

It was then that Ellie had stepped down from her farrier apprenticeship because the noises of the forge were too much for her. Ellie had carried that unfair shame around for weeks, but Doc Jons had managed to ease some of it by getting Ellie in the barn as much as feasible.

“Mama?”

Dina found a smile and opened her arms to accept JJ’s hug. She pulled him close, kissed his neck, and squeezed tight enough to make him giggle. “Hey, buddy. How was your day? Did Mom take you riding?”

He nodded with a huge grin. “Me and Rainbow are cantering now. Mom said I’m ready to start jumping.”

“Yeah? That’s amazing!”

“Can you watch me next time?”

“I promise, bud.”

“Will she take me hunting soon?”

Ellie was certainly considering it. She’d been asking about Dina’s first hunting trip, how her sister and mother introduced her to killing an animal, and how they’d communicated the importance of gun safety. When Dina reflected those questions, Ellie talked about the jump from shooting rats with BBs to Joel handing her a hunting rifle moments after her first human kill. Joel’s advice: Make every shot count.

‘Kill or be killed’ had been Talia’s motto every day after their mother died. That mentality had led Dina and her sister down darker paths than she’d walked with Ellie, though maybe not darker than Ellie herself walked. She still sometimes wondered how far Ellie went in Seattle. Every time Ellie left that theater, she returned less whole than before. Seeing her walk away over and over again…

She pressed a kiss to her son’s head and murmured, “Why don’t we ask her when she gets back?” She paused to sniff him. “When’s the last time you took a bath?”

His shrug, twisted lips, and completely indifferent, “’Unno” were all Ellie. Dina gave him a squeeze. “Alright, bud, definitely bath time tonight because you—” She tapped his freckled nose with her finger twice. “—stink.”

JJ giggled. She let him up when he wiggled against her, but he didn’t immediately leave. JJ had always loved this room, especially when Ellie was in here sketching, playing, or painting. Between his toy box and Ellie’s junk, Dina had all of two drawers for her embroidering materials.

JJ peered up at the canvas resting on the easel before looking at the objects Ellie had set up on the cloth-covered table in front of the window. A bleached cow skull was propped up on a stand, a withered flower lying across one horn. Beside it lay a book opened to a similar setup by a painter of the past. Another project from Cat.

“Cool,” JJ pronounced.

Studying the still life setup, the red flower, the cracked skull, and Ellie’s half-hearted attempt to finish, Dina guessed the trigger for her recent anxieties.

Fuck. It made her angry for Ellie that something as simple as a painting could trigger Ellie’s darkest memories. Just like her to force herself to continue with a project that was literally giving her nightmares.

“Sometimes Mom doesn’t make any sense,” Dina told JJ, combing her fingers through his dark hair. It wasn’t her place to question Ellie’s creative process, but she knew she’d be pushing about this when Ellie got back because no art should be done to the detriment of her mental health. One last look at the room, and Dina shooed JJ out so she could check on dinner.

A few hours later, Dina kissed a much better smelling JJ goodnight and left him with his grandfather for his bedtime story. She returned downstairs to help Robin finish the dishes. Robin had turned on music, and they chatted over it. Dina had always felt safe enough here to voice her fears.

“The Baldwin Place?” Robin reflected her concern, her brows drawn.

“She slept downstairs last night.”

“Another nightmare?”

She nodded. “About Joel. And now she’s probably going to go in there. If they have to take shelter in it…” Dina released her breath and scrubbed at the pan with vigor. Robin patted her back, then rounded her shoulders to squeeze her in a welcome hug. Dina sighed into the embrace, her hands pausing. “I think she should go back on the medications.”

“Have you told her that?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out—”

A thunderous knock shook the glass kitchen door. Dina dropped the pan back into the full sink, and Robin flinched around her.

“Dina, I need to talk to you!”

It was Tommy, opening the door without waiting for a response. The look on his face made her stagger back to grab the counter for balance. She knew why he was here with the immediacy of always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“No,” she gasped, shaking her head at him. “No, _you_ don’t get to say this to me.”

“Jesus Christ, girl, who cares who says it?”

Tommy shoved his way into the kitchen, and for some inexplicable reason, Robin stepped aside. He sank down on one arm against the counter, catching Dina’s gaze with his good eye. She hated the sympathy she saw on his face. His worry scared her even more. Fear was rising high to choke her.

“I swear, Tommy—”

“She ain’t dead, but she’s missing. Greg ‘bout near killed his horse getting back to Jackson to let us know. He heard shots, saw a truck driving off, and Ellie was gone. I’m going back out with a few others tonight.”

“Oh, God.” Dina rocked against the countertop, squeezing it so hard the tendons in her hands groaned. Robin’s grip on her shoulder was grounding. “What about the horde?”

“Don’t know about no horde,” Tommy replied shortly. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice thick. She glanced at Robin, who nodded despite the worry in her gaze. “Give me a minute to change.”

* * *

When that fragile farmhouse dream had shattered, it had taken Dina weeks to figure out how to center herself without Ellie as her focal point.

With more chores than she could handle by herself and the unforgivable finality that Ellie had abandoned her and their son, it had taken only a few days to decide that her situation at the farmhouse was unlivable. Dina packed a few belongings, wrapped JJ against her chest, saddled Japan, and set out at dawn one summer morning to ride back to Jackson.

She’d cried on Robin’s kitchen table and accepted her place in the household because she had no other viable options, not with JJ to care for. Jesse’s parents were her family, and she needed them more than ever.

Every day that Ellie remained gone was another finality in Dina’s reality: Ellie wasn’t coming back. Dina couldn’t live her life hoping for the impossible. Just when she’d finally accepted that truth and that she had to crawl her way to happiness with what family she had left, Robin casually said, “Ellie looked worn out, didn’t she?”

Dina stilled, set her fork down, and looked between James and Robin. “What?”

Jesse’s parents exchanged surprised looks. Robin hesitated. “I’m sorry. I assumed she must have dropped by the shop to see you. I told her where you were.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ellie came by this afternoon and asked to see JJ,” James explained. “She was here for about an hour. Put him down for his nap.”

“Ellie…” Dina pressed a hand to her chest as her world tilted. Then it righted just a little righter than before. “She’s here? In Jackson?”

“Yes. She said Maria’s putting her up for now.”

‘For now?’ What did that mean?

“I didn’t know.”

Robin looked thoroughly chagrined now, and James glanced away. Only JJ, babbling and slapping his food, was unaffected.

Ellie had come back to Jackson, known where Dina was, and hadn’t sought her out? It was another betrayal, when Dina didn’t think she could possibly feel any more betrayed by the woman she loved. She should ignore Ellie back, turn her back like Ellie did…

But Ellie had come to see JJ. That had to mean something. Even if it didn’t, Dina just didn’t have it in her. She had to know Ellie was whole. She had to know if Ellie was staying.

She had to see her.

After she put JJ to bed, Dina wrapped herself up in her jacket, stepped into her boots, and walked a few blocks over to knock on Maria’s door. Her heart was in her throat, her hands were sweaty. Was Ellie angry that she’d left? She had no right to be, but Dina knew it would just confirm the stupid guilt she felt about it in the first place.

Why should she be disappointed to see Maria answer her own door? Like it would be anyone else. Maria’s smile faded. “I figured you’d be by,” she said not unkindly, opening the door further. “She’s asleep in the back.”

The house was warm; it smelled like firewood and pine. The lights were down in the back room, the only light cast by the flickering fire.

There Ellie was, lying in the recliner with her bare feet peeking out from the throw draped over her. Dina pressed her hand to her mouth and stared, tears rising to blur her vision. She had to choke back an audible sob as Ellie moved beneath the blanket.

Alive. Here. Dina hadn’t dared hope for both things at once.

Dina crossed the room and settled on her knees beside Ellie’s chair. Despite the distance between them, she was careful not to startle Ellie awake. She couldn’t help but touch the fingers that peeked out from the edge of the blanket. Ellie was wearing Dina’s bracelet, even after leaving her, being gone for months. Ellie’s face was soft in sleep, her lashes resting on her cheeks, a strand of hair moving subtly with each long inhale and exhale.

The only other time Dina felt relief this strong was after delivering JJ into this world whole and healthy.

Ellie stirred, blinking herself awake. She smiled slowly when she saw Dina. Her voice was blurred with sleep. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey,” Dina replied quietly. Ellie’s fingertips moved against her hand, and Dina accepted her fingers between her own. She released a long sigh and rested her cheek against the skin of Ellie’s wrist. Ellie’s smile faded.

“Ellie, why didn’t you tell me you came back?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to.”

Of all the things that could break her heart all over again… Because Ellie was the one who walked away. Ellie left _them_. And fuck her if she thought Dina leaving that farmhouse reflected anything but her desperation to keep their son safe and healthy.

Dina shook her hand out of Ellie’s and wiped her cheeks. She stood. Ellie hesitated, releasing the lever to lower the chair’s footrest, pushing away the blanket. Then Dina saw her left hand and the red stumps of her last two fingers and couldn’t bear the reality of all the other ways that Ellie would be a stranger to her.

Ellie had left her, but Dina had let her go too. The thought of the hurt and fear and anger that were lurking beneath Ellie’s surface… Dina wasn’t sure she was strong enough to do this all over again.

Dina didn’t acknowledge Ellie’s quiet call of her name. She couldn’t respond to the pain in that question, but she would remember it forever. As she strode back into the cold evening, she told herself she would take refuge in the life she’d built all alone for her family. She had her son. She had James and Robin. She had herself.

She didn’t need Ellie anymore.

She told herself that lie for weeks, but each time Ellie cemented her permanence in Jackson further, prioritized her own well-being, and was there for JJ, that lie echoed just a little softer. Still, that lie lingered, and occasionally, it whispered just loud enough to be heard. The voice that murmured it was her sister’s.

* * *

This couldn’t be fucking happening again. It couldn’t be happening. They’d ride out, and Ellie would be wandering down the road busted up but fine, offering a thousand-yard stare and the smell of blood. But she’d be here and safe, and she and Dina and JJ could heal from it together. ‘ _I made her talk,’_ the imaginary Ellie in her head whispered.

 _I can’t do this again_ , played on repeat in her brain. Was it a prayer or a denial? _Don’t do this to her again._

It was slow going after nightfall. Their flashlights only illuminated so much, and it was a risk to push their horses too fast on the uneven, unseen ground. By the time they got to the highway, it was the middle of the night, and they were all exhausted.

Dina stumbled across Irina’s headless body, clinically noting either a shotgun or a high caliber rifle had done this. Ellie’s mare, Raisin, lay deep in the snow, her belly torn open, and her legs caught in her own gut. The smell made Dina’s gorge rise, but she made herself look.

“Neither of them have been chewed up. Wasn’t there a horde?” Bonnie addressed Greg, who leaned against his horse in clear exhaustion. He’d muttered one choked apology to Dina when she’d arrived at the barn with Tommy.

“Irina said so. I can’t figure it out. Had to be a trap. Ellie sent me up to the overlook. I heard the shots and came back up the street too slow. All I saw was truck tracks, her horse dying, and Irina’s body. I should have fucking stayed.”

“You might be dead too,” Bonnie said as her flashlight illuminated Irina’s body.

“There’s blood here. Drag marks,” Tommy called out. Bonnie crouched next to him, adding her light to his. “Is that from her?” she asked, immediately drawing Dina’s attention.

“What do you think? On her belly?” He pointed at the mix of blood and snow a few feet away. “Someone bled here, got dragged, maybe into that truck. See those tire marks? Had to be one of them. Too damn big to be Ellie, and they left Irina.”

Dina was numb as she listened to his clinical description. As she imagined the scene, Ellie was the one who spilled blood.

Something in the gore glinted bright in her light. Dina leaned over to reach into the frozen mix of blood and snow. She plucked the ring up, wiping at it with shaking hands. Her breath came fast despite the cold that sat low in her belly.

There… On the inside of the ring was the inscription. She took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. Everyone else had fallen silent. Dina’s voice was thick when she spoke. “It’s her wedding band.”

Tommy murmured a curse, and Bonnie lowered her head. Dina couldn’t comprehend this here, in the mud. Why had Ellie taken it off? Why would her captors? As Dina was confronted by all the ugly implications, the group moved on.

Bonnie sank into a squat to touch the deep indents of tires in the winter slush. “What kind of vehicle did this?”

“Military’s my guess,” was Tommy’s bleak reply. “Chad, you find anything?”

“Shotgun casing over here. It’s blue.”

“Grab it.”

“Where to now?” Bonnie asked Tommy.

“Baldwin place. See if we find anything and look for Gene and Leo. Overnight there and come back in the morning to look with daylight.”

“You sure?” Greg asked him. Tommy snorted as he limped back to his horse. Dina wondered if he had whiskey in his pack to help him sleep tonight—hypocritically demeaning Ellie’s need for medications prescribed by an actual doctor—but she couldn’t summon an ounce of anger at the thought.

* * *

Gene was dead. He’d been tied to a chair, and his throat was slit. His blood covered much of the floor.

“Christ,” Tommy muttered, his voice choked. “This fucking place is cursed.”

There wasn’t anything other than Gene’s body and a set of bootprints in the blood and dust. Silently, Dina and Greg folded Gene’s remains into a blanket and dragged it out to the garage. It was eerie to be in this room that had seen so much pain and suffering in the last few years.

By wordless agreement, they went upstairs, started a fire, and huddled around its warmth.

“Where the fuck is Leo?” Greg murmured.

Chad shook his head, all his hope apparently gone by his next words. “We’ll search for a body in the morning. You think they sent Irina out to get Ellie? Told her they’d kill Gene if she didn’t?”

“Why didn’t she just tell us that then? We could have set up an ambush.”

“What would you have done in her place?” Chad asked Dina without judgement. He shrugged. “It ain’t right, but she’s dead now too. She paid for it if that’s what she did. Better to focus on getting El back.”

He was right, but fuck him if he didn’t realize she already knew that. His wince of sympathy was the only thing that kept her shimmering terror from exploding.

Would Dina sacrifice someone else for Ellie’s life? Yes. She would never pretend otherwise. But if there was the chance to keep everyone safe, she hoped she would take that chance. It was hard to know what to feel without having a concrete answer to what had actually happened.

When the others were finally asleep, Dina glanced over at Tommy. “What are you thinking?”

“FEDRA gets my money.”

“Why?”

His gaze was calculating. She wondered why he was trying to keep something so vital a secret. “I know she’s immune, Tommy.”

“She told you?”

“We’re married.”

His smile was bitter. “That don’t mean nothing.”

He was right, even if he meant it as a reflection of his own failed marriage. Dina was certain Ellie only told her because of the circumstances. “Her mask broke in Seattle.”

The panic she’d felt in the moment of seeing Ellie’s broken mask, then when Ellie pulled it off altogether, rivaled what she felt now—except this was extended. Instead of the gnawing terror and the disbelief fading to a lingering fear overnight, there was no relief. Ellie wasn’t here to say everything would be fine.

For the moment, Dina imagined the silhouette of Ellie’s head as she slept propped in an uncomfortable theater chair in Seattle. Dina had watched her sleep for several minutes before retreating to put her mind to something constructive.

“Well.” Tommy’s voice caught, and he sighed. “That poor girl never asked for none of this.”

She wanted to throw his words back at him, ask him not for the first time how he’d put Santa Barbara on Ellie so cruelly. She would never forgive him for that. But all her emotional energy was tied up in her current fears. “Tell me the truth. What happened with her and Joel?”

For a long moment, Dina thought he would ignore her question. Then he sighed and slumped into his chair. “She…was supposed to be the cure. Marlene—she was big-time in the Fireflies in Boston QZ—she hired Joel to smuggle Ellie out. They ended up making it to a big Firefly hospital. They were gonna kill Ellie to make the cure. Joel killed them instead.”

“Oh, fuck.” Dina rested her head in her hands. “Did she know?”

“Reckon so. She told Abby she knew why she killed Joel. She said she was the one Abby wanted ‘cause there was no cure.”

What a God-damn bombshell. Joel had died for saving Ellie.

For the first time, Dina had complete clarity about Ellie’s motivations in Seattle, even Santa Barbara. It was just like Ellie to take that on herself, to make it her fault. Joel must have known he’d dug his own grave, but Ellie wouldn’t accept that. She had wanted to right the wrong because she blamed herself for it.

Dina was so frightened. She felt ill with the thought of what Ellie might be going through right that moment, and all they could do was sit here and wait for daylight. But her wedding band in the snow…

“If Abby was one of the Fireflies, why was she in the WLF?”

“The Fireflies disbanded because of what Joel did.”

“Fuck.” The scope of Joel’s actions widened sharply. “How many did he kill?!”

“Enough.”

“Was the whole WLF group ex-Fireflies?”

“Yeah. All of ‘em. A couple doctors, the rest soldiers. They’re all dead though. Don’t know who else would know about Ellie. She say anything to you about slipping up?”

“No. She’s been careful. Tommy, what are we going to do?”

They were both surprised by the desperation she turned on him. Tommy’s expression firmed. “We’ll see what we can find in the morning. I’ll get word out, see if anybody heard of some group doing infected testing. Dina, we’ll find her.”

Neither of them believed him.

* * *

The only new information they gleaned that morning was the discovery of Leo’s frozen body outside and a small colored square of material on the floor below the chair Gene had died in. Tommy stared at the small piece of plastic with sudden aggressive attention.

“Get Gene out,” Tommy commanded. “Take his shirt off.”

Dina stepped back as Greg and Bonnie carefully unwrapped Gene’s stiff body to pull off his shirt and display his skin. Tommy pointed at two reddened areas on Gene’s chest. “Goddamn taser. Puts two prongs in you, there and there. Stuns you with electricity. Hurts like hell.” He glanced at them. “FEDRA’s the only organization I ever seen use these fucking things.”

Okay. So his guess about FEDRA was right. That was something. “How many QZs are there?”

“Shit,” he said, scratching his beard. Dina could see by the dull glint of his good eye that she wouldn’t like the answer. “Half a dozen. We’ll…” His voice caught, and he cleared it. “We’ll see if we can track the truck, get a better idea where they were headed.”

The tire tracks ran out a few miles down 191, and the team Tommy sent down the highway lost the trail ten miles west of Jackson. Dina and Tommy found more evidence of taser fire where Ellie had presumably been taken. “If they wanted her unharmed, they’d use it to stun her and make off with her.”

“You really think this was about her immunity?”

“I can’t think of a reason they wouldn’t just leave her on the street like Irina if they wanted her dead. That means she might be alive.”

“God, Tommy,” Dina whispered. For the first time in years, she accepted his hug.

So Ellie might be alive. As Tommy said more than a few times, it was something. As if that was consolation. Even if they could figure out what QZ could have done this, even if Ellie hadn’t been killed in the process, how the hell were they going to infiltrate a FEDRA stronghold to bring her back alive?

Dina had an obligation to their son too. It was going to be all Dina could do to hold herself together and be a mother to JJ while trying to pretend her heart hadn’t been ripped from her chest. When she arrived back in Jackson, Dina sat between Robin and James and asked them what the fuck she was supposed to tell JJ. On top of the thought of lying to her son, she had to lie to her only other family when they asked why anyone would ever take Ellie.

As always, they steadied her, guided her, and comforted her even in the midst of their own grief. They loved Ellie. They’d been as excited about Ellie moving into their home as JJ had been, happy to welcome back another member of their family.

The hardest part about being a mother was the buck stopped with her. No one could tell JJ but Dina. She planned out half a dozen ways to say it, but all her words flew out of her head when JJ’s happy expression melted into sorrow when Ellie wasn’t at the door to greet them.

“She promised!” He stamped his foot and looked a second away from crying.

Dina gathered him close. “She loves you, buddy. But she couldn’t come home.”

“Why not?!”

Could she pretend Ellie hadn’t been taken? Say she’d chosen this? As Dina considered how to phrase it, what would be fair and right to say, JJ asked, “What about my birthday?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ellie had been trading favors with Jackson’s carpenter for weeks as the man crafted a custom guitar for JJ’s birthday. They were going to start lessons after she gave him his gift.

Dina pulled herself together after a moment, knowing she was going to rip his heart out with the answer, but he saw it on her face before she could breathe a word. JJ screamed, tore himself from her arms, and stormed upstairs to slam his door thunderously. Dina took a few selfish moments as she cried against the door. She felt empty and exhausted.

When she had calmed down enough to go upstairs, she found JJ in Ellie’s art room. He’d gently dropped the guitar case to the ground and opened it; his fingertips ghosted over the moth on the fretboard. Dina sank down behind him and studied the curve of his face.

“She loves you more than anything else in this whole wide world.”

“Why did she leave?”

Even the best choice would be wrong here.

“Because she wants to help make the world a better place.” When JJ didn’t respond, she shuffled closer. “See, your mom’s blood is...special, and these people think they can find a way to make other people have special blood too.”

“Is mine special too?”

Dina had taken for granted that he didn’t know he wasn’t related to Ellie by blood. She swallowed her grief to say, “No, baby. Not like hers. They only need her.”

That night, for the first time in months, JJ crawled into bed with her, pressing his face into Ellie’s pillow. She put her arm around him and took as much comfort from him as he did from her.

* * *

She couldn’t concentrate on her work. She couldn’t sleep. Every day was the circling worry about Ellie: Was she alive? Was she suffering? Not knowing was the worst part. At least when Ellie had walked away by choice, she could guess what might be happening to her.

Jackson’s brand of nurturing was awful. Every hour, it felt like someone else had dropped by with food and condolences. The person who really broke her was Seth. Big Bigot Seth, who knocked on her door and looked like he was fighting tears when he asked, “Can I do anything for you?”

“No. Thank you, Seth.”

“I’m sorry, Dina. Your family’s seen enough grief to last a lifetime, and she…saved my Greg.” Then he let out a sob and pretended he hadn’t. “It’s really something how you two worked together to knit your family back together.” His smile wobbled. “You let me know if you need anything.”

Dina watched him leave and wondered if Jackson really paid that much attention. Their life together was as good as they could reasonably expect. That included Ellie’s nightly patrols of the house after dark, her infuriating need to close and lock JJ’s window even on the stuffiest days, and the lonely nights she took herself downstairs to sleep on the couch.

It wasn’t a perfect life, but damnit, it was theirs.

Doc Jons had dinner with the family, and the whole time, he fought his grief. Dina followed him out when he left. He stopped to say, “I know she has as checkered past, but… She didn’t deserve this.” He glanced down and shook his head. “Who would have taken her?”

“We’re not sure. Maybe FEDRA.”

“Why? She was just a child when she left.”

Unless Doc Jons was a masterful liar, he didn’t know about Ellie’s immunity. Dina couldn’t remember why the question had come up, but Ellie had confirmed she’d never told him. Now, Dina accepted Doc Jons’ hug. She wasn’t prepared for him to break down in her embrace. He pulled away quickly, wiping at his face. His voice was weak and wobbled when he said, “Don’t know what I’m going to do with only Zora to get on me about my blood sugar.”

“Please take care of yourself.”

“You too. If you need anything, just ask.”

Of all the people in Jackson, Doc Jons would be the one who really meant it.

The one person who surprised her with his sympathy was Jim. When he came by to offer his condolences, he appeared upset for Dina, wearing an expression she’d never seen on him before. Jim offered Robin a small, awkward wave and shoved his hands in his pockets with a frown.

“Just…wanted to say I’m sorry, boss.”

She bit her lip and fought her tears. Jim went so far as to pat her forearm. “You guys find anything? Any clues?”

Dina shook her head, not surprised rumors were moving through Jackson’s society. “We’re not sure.”

His jaw worked as he studied her, and he backed out onto the porch. “Khanh told me to tell you you’re excused from work ‘til you’re ready to come back. Take care of yourself.” He seemed to be waiting for her to say something else, but when Dina only nodded, he turned his back and walked away.

What a strange man. He could be so crass, so annoyingly self-focused and sexist. It almost surprised her that he came at all. Maybe he was learning a little about polite society in Jackson. Hell, maybe a part of him did care about her.

* * *

It only took a few weeks after Ellie’s return from California for her presence to no longer be alien. On their farmhouse, there had never been a true routine other than what was dictated by their daily chores, but Ellie seemed bound and determined to establish a schedule now. It became routine for Ellie to come by the house to see JJ every day. She even sat at the dinner table with the whole family at least twice a week and always on Sabbath.

Though living in Jackson had taught Dina about safety, she’d also learned more than a little about protecting herself emotionally from Talia. She struggled to hold onto that instinct of self-preservation, but with every one of Ellie’s fulfilled promises, her steady and open demeanor, her presence _then_ and _there_ , she was easier to trust.

After a few months, Dina wasn’t sure if she was holding Ellie at arm’s length out of fear or misplaced pride. She kept telling herself it wasn’t healthy to fold herself so entirely in Ellie again, yet in the next moment, she sought confirmation of Ellie’s attention.

Then the rumors started. Quiet whispers about Ellie and Cat dating, that they were sharing meals at the Tipsy Bison and that Ellie had slept over in Cat’s studio one night. Dina had never put much faith in Jackson’s rumor mill, which had always produced exaggerated nonsense, but this was an old smoldering hurt that flared up brighter than she could’ve anticipated.

Sitting on her porch one night, choking on the possibility that she hadn’t seen Ellie that day because Ellie was moving on with Cat, Dina realized she was being an idiot. She was too old to wallow in the jealousy that had consumed her for months when Cat and Ellie started dating years prior. She was not going to lose Ellie out of misplaced pride. It was clear Ellie _was_ hers to lose. And if she needed confirmation of Ellie’s intentions, she could damn well just ask.

Dina stepped back into the kitchen to let Robin know she was going to be out for a while, put on her boots, and set off for Maria’s house.

Ellie wasn’t there, which only compounded her disappointment and determination. Walking back home with the heavy knowledge that Cat and Ellie were having dinner together, Dina asked herself why she’d been so afraid of this. So what if she built a life with Ellie again? Wasn’t that the fucking point?

When Dina saw Ellie and Cat walking together down Main Street, she paused. Ellie immediately noticed her and offered a soft, hopeful smile. “Hey, you.”

Just like that, everything felt a little better. “Hey. I just went by Maria’s.”

“Yeah? Everything okay?”

Dina couldn’t quite meet Cat’s gaze. “I just… I didn’t see you today, is all.”

Ellie’s expression opened. She looked so damn hopeful. Dina couldn’t hide her emotions from herself anymore. She offered Ellie a tentative smile. Cat cleared her throat and said, “Don’t be a stranger, Ellie.”

Ellie looked at Cat like she’d forgotten about her. She accepted Cat’s hug, already half-turned to Dina. Still, Ellie asked, “You good?”

“Yeah.” Cat winked at Ellie and offered Dina a wordless wave.

“Walk you home?” Ellie offered a moment later. They fell into step beside each other. Their silence felt awkward, as if they were both too busy reveling in each other’s proximity to do more than just occupy the same space.

“I…swung by at lunch to see JJ.”

“Good,” Dina said too quickly. “He loves seeing you. I swear his first word is going to be your name.”

Ellie snorted. “No way. It’s going to be, ‘No’.”

They shared shy smiles. Ellie lingered by the porch steps as Dina climbed them. When Dina indicated the porch swing with a look, Ellie followed her. Dina winced as she sat, stiff in the awkward shape of the swing. Ellie sank down beside her and asked, “Back acting up?”

“Not too bad today.” Dina put every ounce of her emotion on her face, and Ellie’s eyes went wide. Then she ducked her head and reached over to rub Dina’s lower back instead of kissing her like Dina had hoped.

It was like all those breath-holding moments when they were just friends. Dina knew she’d come on strong, especially when they were finally single at the same time, but Ellie was so bone-headedly dense in the face of Dina’s hints that she wanted more. She knew she wasn’t being fair, not then and not now. She couldn’t just go from holding herself back to immediately cuing that she wanted physical intimacy, but she’d never been good at half-measures.

“You seem…peaceful,” Dina said carefully. She leaned into Ellie’s touch, but Ellie withdrew her hand. Ellie put a boot on the porch railing, exaggerating the swing’s subtle rock.

“I talked to Doc Jons about my…the nightmares and stuff.”

That was a fucking revelation, but Dina was careful not to react. She held her breath as Ellie continued.

“He said sleep is important to help with that. He also… He gave me some pills. There’s a difference. Helps me cut through the anxiety; I still feel it, but it’s easier to know what’s real. And there’s one that helps me sleep.”

“You’ve been taking them?”

“He said I shouldn’t need it forever.” Ellie wouldn’t meet her gaze. Trust her to be ashamed of needing the chemical help for a medical problem.

“Does it matter how long you take them if they’re helping? Are there side-effects?”

Ellie snorted ruefully. “Decreased sex drive.”

Dina was abruptly angry, but not for the reasons that Ellie probably assumed. She wanted to stand up and scream in Ellie’s face she didn’t care. Instead, she took Ellie’s hand in her own and calmly stated, “I was never with you for that.”

“Good thing.”

“El, look at me.” When Ellie met her gaze, Dina cupped her cheeks. “Sex is only a small part of a loving relationship, and it was only fun for me if it was fun for you. Please accept that. Stop blaming yourself for something so silly.”

“I just wanted to make you feel good.”

It was too fucking heavy. Dina fell back into her habit of deflection. “You know what makes me feel good? A foot rub.”

Ellie was smiling by the time Dina dropped her bare feet in Ellie’s lap. Sitting with her back against the hard edge of the swing wasn’t a comfortable position, but it was worth the ache to see Ellie grin and lean over to sniff Dina’s feet and pretend to gag.

“Alright, you,” Dina teased, shoving one foot against Ellie’s face. Ellie cupped her ankle, and in a move that surprised Dina, kissed the arch of her foot. Dina’s emotions were entirely separate from her reflexive jerk.

“Woah, okay!” Ellie laughed. “Don’t break my nose.”

“That was dangerous.”

Ellie’s fingertips moved against Dina’s foot, massaging gently. Dina sank back and sighed.

“I love you.”

Dina looked up in shock. Ellie’s gaze was steady and focused. After a moment of silence, she glanced back down at Dina’s feet and dug her thumb into just the right spot. “I’m not asking for anything, but I—”

“Are you seeing Cat?”

Ellie looked at Dina as if she were the most inexplicable human on the planet. “No. Why would I be seeing Cat?”

“Because I’m a jealous bitch. I heard a rumor about another tattoo.”

“We’ve just been talking about it. If I wanted something to look like ass on me permanently, I’d be happy to ask you to do it.” After a moment, Ellie leaned towards Dina. “You don’t have to worry about anybody else. It’s always been you.”

 _Fuck this,_ Dina thought. She dragged Ellie’s mouth to hers in a hard kiss that surprised them both. When they parted, Ellie’s smile bloomed just like after their first kiss. Now Dina wasn’t drunk or worried about Ellie’s reaction; she reveled in that expression of pure happiness.

“Ten.”

“What?” Dina tried to trace their conversation back to make sense of the number. Ellie kissed her again, almost chastely.

“I’ll be by for dinner tomorrow, okay?”

“Wait, what did you mean? What’s ten?”

Ellie shrugged and put on an exaggerated air of innocence as she backed down the porch steps. Dina watched her walk away, raising a hand to wave as Ellie glanced back before she rounded the next house.

Ten.

It had taken her nearly a month to realize what Ellie meant. How could such a taciturn woman be so fucking romantic?

Just one exchange, two kisses, and a foot rub, and Dina had been ready for Ellie to step back into her life, her home, and her bed. She’d chosen to ignore whatever lingering distrust remained and instead held fast to her faith that Ellie was back to stay. Forever. In the years they’d navigated this fucking weird mess called love, Ellie had instilled her way back into every corner of Dina’s life.

Dina hadn’t considered how much it would hurt to lose Ellie all over again. Dina had tried to ignore Talia’s lesson that the world took far more easily than it gave, but the world had a way of proving Talia’s paranoias true. And, no matter how indestructible Ellie seemed, she was only human.

* * *

After a week of waiting, Dina wrapped Ellie’s canvases up to protect them and sealed all her paints. She gathered herself for the task and walked the bundle a few blocks over to Cat’s house. When she knocked on the door of Cat’s studio, the music inside stopped.

Cat’s hopeful express faded into the shimmer of tears. The fact she’d been waiting for news about Ellie broke Dina’s heart all over again. Dina looked at her feet. “I thought I should bring her paints back. You know how to store them. She’ll want them back when she…”

“Dina.” Cat folded her into a hug, and Dina stood stiff in it. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” Dina murmured. She felt powerless to do anything but follow Cat into the garage and sit in the cold metal chair Cat unfolded for her. Dina glanced around the room so full of Cat’s paintings. Her tattoo materials were boxed up under a table covered in paint. A cot in the corner caught her gaze. How often had Dina tortured herself wondering if Ellie had shared that tiny bed with Cat?

What a stupid thing to still be hung up on. She and Ellie had married beneath a chuppah last summer, but Dina still stewed in the unfair, immature anger that Cat had made a move on Ellie before Dina even knew it was a possibility. It was time to bury that old resentment.

When Cat put a hand on Dina’s shoulder, Dina said, “I love her so much.”

“I know.”

“Do you still love her?”

“Not like you do,” Cat said simply. “She never really trusted me, but she was fun to be with.”

Fun. She was that. But more so frustrating, joyous, infuriating, terrifying, and inescapable. Dina closed her eyes, and for the hundredth time that week, she formed a nearly wordless prayer for Ellie’s safety and return.

“If you need any help…even with JJ…let me know.”

Cat was not a kid person, but all Dina saw in her expression was honesty. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been…with you.”

That coaxed a wry smile. “You hurt her more than me.”

“I hated how it made me feel. You took all her time all of a sudden, before I had any idea she could want to be with me like that. And that fucking tattoo.” Dina choked the truth out with a wince. “Wow, talk about teenage drama.”

“It annoyed me more that you were still a bitch after Ellie and I broke up.”

“You were still so close.”

Cat laughed incredulously. “As if you and Jesse weren’t like that too. Besides, we’re lesbians. Staying friends with your ex is a thing.”

“Really?”

“Pretty much accepted fact in all the lesbian media I’ve consumed. That and basically getting married after two dates.”

“One for me and her,” Dina admitted wryly. When Cat didn’t reply, Dina continued, “We found a bookstore in Seattle and all they sold was stuff with two men or two women. I found a book about these girls who were trying to find a husband in school, but they fucked each other instead. I took a lot of notes.”

That got Cat’s interest. “Can I borrow it?”

For the first time in a week, Dina laughed.

She returned home just a little bit lighter, but Ellie’s craft room reminded her of the reality of her situation. Standing on the threshold, she looked across every framed painting and sketch: JJ, Dina, Robin and James, Raisin, Joel’s smiling face. When she opened the drawer of the paint-spattered vanity, she paused. A leather-bound journal lay on top of the stack. This was Ellie’s newest one. Dina had removed it from JJ’s backpack in confusion a few days after Ellie’s disappearance.

Despite the feeling of betrayal that settled over her, Dina flipped through it. It wasn’t as if Dina understood half of what Ellie wrote, whether it be her lyrics or a description of a nightmare. Dina just needed to feel close to her again.

A small, terrible part of her needed confirmation that Ellie really hadn’t chosen to walk away again.

Why leave the wedding band? If Ellie hadn’t, why would her kidnappers remove it?

The day Ellie disappeared, she’d written a list of tasks under Maria’s frowning face, but the previous page had been torn from the book. Dina touched the ragged edge and wondered at it. On the last page, Ellie had sketched JJ bumping noses with his pony. Dina traced his face, awed by all the love Ellie managed to convey with a few pen strokes.

“What the fuck am I going to do, babe? I don’t think I can do this without you.”

She’d tried. Being abandoned for hatred had gutted her, but the anger it inspired distracted from the worst of her worries. For a year, she’d been clinging to Ellie for dear life, trying to drag her into happiness, begging for it, but Ellie hadn’t wanted anything to do with it. That hadn’t been the first time Dina experienced that downward spiral. She’d grown up in the shadow of Talia’s trauma and knew no amount of trying on her part was going to fix Ellie if Ellie didn’t want to make the effort herself. Talia’s spiral had been cut short by her murder.

Maybe Tommy’s information that day on the farm had been a blessing, but it hadn’t felt like it at the time. All she’d seen was Ellie walking away from the life they shared to chase the shadow of her wrath. That was the final blow she’d needed to break herself and her son from the downward spiral Ellie was determined to drown in.

Talia had taught her that family stayed with family, but Talia’s definition of ‘stay’ was Dina following—following beyond happiness, beyond safety, beyond sanity, into desolation. Dina hadn’t known anything but that commitment Talia instilled in her when she followed Ellie to Seattle. She hadn’t realized there was another choice until she had to choose between JJ and Ellie.

Dina retreated to their bedroom and turned her gaze to Ellie’s bedside table. Ellie’s canteen still sat there beneath her lamp. She’d been reading a new book about space—this one about the history of space suits of all things—something she’d been so excited to get from a group of traders traveling through last month. Dina reached out to open the drawer, removing the fold of cloth within. She touched Ellie’s wedding band with one finger.

Her grief sat heavy behind her eyes, but she felt too dry to cry. She slipped the band onto a delicate chain that Robin had given her last year and secured it around her neck. The cold metal of Ellie’s ring warmed between her breasts.

She would have to figure how to do this. She had to for her son and for herself.

* * *

She woke to the sound of music. Per her bedside clock, it was in the middle of the night. She winced and pulled on a robe as she walked down the hall. Light shone under the door of Ellie’s art room. Illogical hope rushed high in her sleep-muddled state at the sound of Ellie’s voice.

When she opened the door, JJ was sitting on the floor cradling the tape player in his lap, listening intently to the tinny sound of Ellie’s voice and guitar. He had wrapped Ellie’s painting shirt around his shoulders. Dina stilled, stunned by the rush of grief and disappointment that swept her. When JJ turned to look at her, she gazed at her son, unable to do anything but choke back her sob behind her hand.

He was crying too. She sank down next to JJ and pulled him against her, pressing her lips to the crown of his head. They cried quietly together as they listened to Ellie sing one of her many covers.

A month gone. Four weeks without any leads. JJ’s fifth birthday had come and gone, and the puppy Dina gave him was a boon but certainly not enough to stop him from crying that Ellie hadn’t been there. For the first time since he was born, they hadn’t celebrated Hanukkah.

If she knew Ellie was dead, she could let go and move on. But not knowing, this fucking hope that Ellie might be alive and waiting for rescue…that she might be in pain or terrified… Was this the burning need that drove Ellie to such lengths for Joel? If Dina didn’t have JJ, she would have been gone the next day, searching for any clue or lead. She’d smuggle her way into each QZ until she found the right one. The desire was still there, but these moments reminded her sharply of why she had to stay.

She and JJ listened to two more recorded songs before she put him back to bed. She’d covered his pillowcase with one of Ellie’s t-shirts, and he snuggled against it with a sigh. The puppy—lanky and mostly trained—lifted his head and gave Dina a tail-wag.

With a sigh herself, Dina pulled out the stack of Ellie’s journals from the vanity and took them to bed with her. What did privacy matter to Ellie anymore?

She started at the end and worked backward, flipping more to find Ellie’s illustrations than to focus on her writing. Two weeks before Ellie’s disappearance, she’d sketched her own face. It was haunting, Ellie’s features framed entirely around her blank, wide-eyed stare. Dina gazed at it, her grief rising like a tide.

About a year prior—only roughly estimated because Ellie’s journal entry prior mentioned JJ’s fourth birthday—Dina found the first sketch of Abby. She only knew Abby’s face by Leah’s polaroid, but it could be no one else, not with that braid.

There was something soft about the way Ellie drew her. Full lower lip, arched brows, snub nose, gentle cheekbones, a smattering of freckles across her face. Her face was strangely unassuming. The sketch was detailed, with as much time spent on it as Ellie spent on Dina or JJ. Yet there was something so clinically detached about this sketch of Joel’s killer that Dina had trouble believing Ellie drew it.

She paused and read forward again. Abby’s sketch here added new meaning to the lyrics scratched out on the following page. The words were accompanied by chord diagrams in the margins. Dina’s gaze—as it always did with Ellie’s sketches—lingered on the portrait of a hollow-eyed person on the next page. Below that face was written, _What did they do to you?_

_The point was lost so long ago.  
Eye for an eye,  
Sorrow for sorrow.  
Only did to ~~you~~ her what she did to me.  
So why was it so wrong?_

_Screaming wail between your teeth.  
Choking on your pain  
As I cut you deep.  
 ~~This~~ Our brutal embrace is all that’s left to me.  
How do I make this right?_

_~~If you were unchanged, would I still let you go?  
If he weren’t there  
~~ _

_Embrace the grief.  
Release the pain.  
Walk away free  
To love what remains._

_Brine in my mouth, ~~stinging~~ burning my wounds,  
 ~~Replacing~~ Stronger than iron  
Bitter with truth.  
Skin that ~~hurt~~ aches cut away to show  
 ~~Gangrenous~~ Proud flesh beneath  
Bleeding, ready to grow.  
Not whole, never to be whole, but  
As close as I’ll ever know._

Dina lingered over the words, wondering what she was glimpsing in them. Surely this was about Abby and Joel, but it was as cryptic as anything else Ellie had written. Dina just didn’t know. Ellie had told her nothing but irrelevant details about Santa Barbara. Dina had once overheard Tommy—drunk as usual—say that Ellie had killed Abby, but Ellie never breathed a word to Dina.

She’d thought they were communicating so well, especially with Ellie speaking more easily of Joel and Jesse in the last year. The bombshell about the Fireflies trying to murder her for the cure meant there was still so much more to know.

A small part of Dina had to acknowledge that she might never learn those answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me longer to write Ellie's lyrics than the rest of the chapter. If it's crap, the fault is obviously with me, not Ellie.


	4. Whatever god there is

“Fish on!”

It was still early in the day, but they’d hit a good spot, watching the birds—including a beautiful bald eagle that flew over them curiously—and chumming the water with the bait they’d caught earlier. They’d landed a dozen small bass, two yellowtail, and even one unexpected but impressive rockfish so far this morning. Abby was at the ready, moving poles and steadying Jo as the fish fought. It took nearly twenty minutes to get the sucker into the boat.

“Yellowtail!” Jo shouted, but Abby had seen it by that point. She had the gaff ready and grunted as she hauled the flailing fish into the boat. This was one of the biggest yellowtails she’d seen; Jo was justifiably impressed with himself.

This was one of Abby’s favorite activities, but she had to shrug off guilt for doing something as trivial as fishing for their community. It was a far cry from the lofty goals her father and Marlene had preached when she was a girl, but any food she could bring to the island was less food they’d take from the Rattlers.

“This is way more my speed,” Jo proclaimed as they bled the fish. He grinned at Abby. “Bet you didn’t think I’d keep going out with you for those infected samples, huh?”

“I’ve been impressed. Why’d you stick it out?” Jo was her most reliable partner for sampling infected on the mainland, though Lev had been coming out with her more frequently when they went into LA.

“Maybe I figure by confronting my fear, I’ll get stronger.”

Abby grunted. “Have you been listening to Lev?”

“His mumbo jumbo Buddha shit?”

“It’s not Buddhism, asshole.”

Jo’s widening grin clued Abby into the fact she’d been baited. “Lev still with that hot girl?”

“She’s too young for you, Jo.”

Then he went a step further by saying, “Good thing I still got my eye on Doc Al. But I’m not stepping in on your girl, Abs. Take it as a compliment that I enjoy looking at her.”

“She’s not a girl, dick.”

“Your _woman_.”

“Also my friend. And also with Yasmin.”

“You sure about that? ‘Cause I get some vibes off you when I talk about her.”

Abby rolled her eyes, checking a rod set up over the stern. For a guy who professed to loving women, Jo spent a lot of time wanting women to hook up with other women. “Maybe I just hate the objectification of women.”

“Wait, are you jealous of _my_ attention? You’re hot in a bro-way.”

Not what she meant, and he knew that. Abby pinned him with an incredulous stare. Jo was in no way dissuaded. “Serious. Never met a woman who could clean and jerk over two hundred pounds. I must have a hundred pounds on you, but you could crack my skull open with those thighs.”

She tried to wrap her brain around his proclamation more seriously. She could get a pump on during a workout, and generally, the weather stripped her down to shorts and her bra in the hot gym. By virtue of the shape of her body, Abby’s movements were not considered feminine. She didn’t care how she looked, only how well her body performed. Abby glanced down at her quads and tried to see anything but the result of her training. “Just trying to be strong, man.”

“You asked.”

“I don’t think I did, but thanks for objectifying me as much as you do Al. That means a lot to me. Really warms my heart, Jo.” Her sarcasm was lost to her amusement. She snickered and grinned up at him. Jo replied in kind, dropping a heavy hand on her shoulder to give her a light, nonthreatening shake.

“You’re welcome, Abs. Work out with me when we get back?”

“It’s a squat day. Sure you can handle all that sexiness?”

“Shit, yeah! My favorite. Work that booty!” When Jo slapped his own ass, Abby nearly choked as she drank from her canteen.

They sat with their feet hanging off the side of the boat, sipped cold beer, and ate their lunch. The water was beautiful that day, the waves moving the boat gently. A dolphin leapt in the distance. Abby regretted not persuading Lev to join them this morning. Today was calm enough that even he would have enjoyed it. Instead, Lev and his girlfriend had taken an overnight trip to Two Harbors to hunt buffalo. Maybe he’d be back by dinner tonight.

She was struck abruptly by how much she missed him.

“Spring fishing with beer and a friend. Nothing better than this.”

“Stop it. You’re embarrassing me,” she teased, reflecting Jo’s grin.

“Except maybe surfing.”

“You know I can’t.”

Jo raised his brows in a way that meant trouble. “We have a couple weeks to plan our next trip. I have this plan, see…”

As Jo described in detail how he would hide their surfboards, Abby considered the weeks that stretched between this fishing trip and next one. To eat she’d have to find something else to occupy her. The thought of the tasks on the island pulled the smile from her face and raised her unease. Hopefully Alyssa would put together another collection list for her. She could scrounge for equipment for the desalination plant, try another library for more books, or see if Alyssa needed medical supplies.

Avalon was suffocating, but leaving meant going into LA, and LA put her near the Rattlers. Sometimes Abby couldn’t shake her dread, even in a paradise like this.

* * *

Occasionally, when the boat rounded the southeast tip of the island and continued up to Avalon, Abby was taken back to the first desperate time she caught sight of Catalina Island. Through the haze of her pain and exhaustion, a few words had echoed in a repetitious chorus within her head: _“Domed building. Avalon. We’ll find you.”_

She’d imagined that conversation on the radio more times that she could count during their captivity in Santa Barbara, and as she piloted the boat parallel to the shore, it echoed and reechoed in her head.

It had to be real. It had to be fucking real. If it wasn’t, they were dead.

When she did see it, she thought she was imagining the island. She couldn’t fight the currents, not with the little outboard engine sputtering, and they missed the bay that opened into Avalon. When the boat scraped up onto the sandy beach just northwest of Avalon, Abby stared at the round casino with her mouth cracked open.

“It’s real,” she gasped raggedly. “Lev, we made it.”

He didn’t respond.

They’d made it, but she couldn’t wait for the Fireflies to find them. Lev didn’t have that long. Abby knew she didn’t either.

She dug deep in her last reserves of strength as she climbed out of the boat and lifted Lev in her arms. For a moment, she swayed and stared. She was beyond acknowledging her pain, even if a part of her knew this was harder than anything she’d ever done before. The beach ran out after a few hundred feet. She shuffled through the sand to the cracked concrete road and followed it. Her thoughts were muddled, and eventually, her world focused on one bare foot in front of the other.

Then she couldn’t anymore. Her legs gave out. She sank to her knees, and Lev slipped from her grip. Abby gulped air with her chest upright, trying to breathe against immeasurable force crushing her lungs.

A shadow fell across her face. She gasped, “Help us.”

The very human reply was, “Holy shit.”

The next thing she was truly aware of was the need to urinate. Abby groaned as things came into focus from the blackness that coated her before. Everything hurt: her skin, her face, her chest, her joints… It was endless pain. But her bladder somehow was the biggest priority in all of that.

“Hey, honey. Settle down. What do you need?”

Abby turned her head and focused with effort on the woman standing by her bedside.

“Gotta piss.”

That coaxed a kind smile. “I’ll bet you do. Can you lift your hips?”

She thought she was going to piss herself from the pain when she did, but after all that, it took utter concentration to urinate into a bedpan. Abby sank back into the bed in utter exhaustion as the woman rearranged her sheets.

“Lev?” Abby mumbled.

“I’m here.”

At the sound of his voice, Abby turned her head to the left. He was sitting up in bed, his worried smile open and sweet. The relief of seeing him sitting up and alert raised tears to her eyes. She managed a smile even as the expression pulled at the burning wound on her jaw. Her face felt like she’d gone hand to hand with a bloater and lost. She felt not just hurt but sick, dry despite feeling flushed, shivering despite the heat under her skin.

“Hey. How’re…you doing?”

“Better.” Then he reached across the gap between their beds. Abby did the same, her body seeming to unstick with bolts of pain. She needed to touch him, even if it was just a brush of fingertips. She noted the fluid line in his arm. His face was clean for the first time in months, and he wore new blue scrubs.

“That’s a good color on you.”

She was fading, but she saw him roll his eyes.

“How do _you_ feel?”

“Fine.”

“You’re lying.”

“How do you always know?” She licked her lips; someone had put a coating of lubricant on them. With effort, she peeled her head off her pillow to look down her body. There was a blood line draining into her catheter in her right arm and fluids going into her left. She winced and fumbled at the source of the aching pain in her right chest wall.

“Don’t touch that.” The woman was back, pressing Abby’s wrist back onto the bed.

She had a chest tube.

Hemothorax. She’d wondered. The knife wound to her chest… She took a slow, deep breath, appreciating that despite the pain and the crackling sensation in her lungs, the breath itself felt normal. Then she coughed and thought she was going to pass out from the pain.

“Hey. It’s okay.” The woman touched Abby’s shoulder before administering something into the catheter with her fluids. The injection smelled like rubber, and her pain eased as her world dimmed and softened.

“Who are you?”

The woman smiled, brushing Abby’s hairline with a gentle touch. Behind those dark-rimmed glasses, she had a kind face to match her kind smile. “I’m Alyssa. Lev introduced himself to me earlier.”

Alyssa… Alyssa who was telling Abby that she knew about Lev, that he was safe. There was nothing but gentleness and understanding on her face. Abby summoned all her energy to look at Lev, who offered a hopeful smile. After living in a nightmare of human greed and evil for months, Alyssa’s kindness meant more than Abby could ever quantify.

“We made it, Abby,” Lev said.

“Firefly?” Abby mumbled.

Alyssa settled on the edge of Abby’s bed and studied her with that same gentleness. “I am. I’m guessing you are too. What’s your name?”

“Abby.”

Alyssa held out her hand as if it were a normal meeting on a normal day. Later, Abby understood why Alyssa would do it, but that didn’t stop the gesture from meaning something. Abby’s father had talked about it: _‘Humanize your patient. Introduce yourself, make eye contact, shake their hand or bump their fist. Touch them when appropriate.’_

She fumbled to accept Alyssa’s hand. She’d meant to pump it but instead just held it as her arm sank to the bedclothes. It had been so long since she’d been touched without violent intent. Alyssa’s smile softened; she let Abby hold her hand as Abby fell back asleep.

* * *

The food bank in Avalon was happy enough to take the haul from their half-day fishing trip. It took three trips to bring all the coolers up the dock. Since Cain was manning the station, Abby let Jo take care of the exchange. Cain studied the last fish with disgust. “Did you run over it?”

“Shark,” Jo replied. “Plenty of meat left.”

Derreck leaned around the wall to address Abby with a grin. “Did it bite you too?”

“Not this time.” She approached and lowered her voice. “Hey, any issues with the new panels at the water plant?”

“Better, but we’re back to where we started. Yasmin took two for the radio tower.”

Nothing Abby could do about the ones taken. She’d have to finagle another trip into downtown LA; Alyssa would invent an excuse if Abby asked. If Abby could persuade Troy to lend her a truck on the mainland, she could haul plenty of panels back to repair and add to their grid instead of the backbreaking trips on foot. The hardest part had been getting the desalination plant up and running; now they just had to maintain it. Even Yasmin’s perplexing inference wasn’t insurmountable.

While Abby pondered that dilemma, Cain tallied up their haul, subtracting the fuel the boat used. The only reason the tally was fair was because Jo was with her. Cain’s glare as he passed over the notes was enough to remind her of that. Once, she’d been drunk enough to say she hoped his survival was long; they’d both come out of that altercation worse for wear. Yasmin had written only Abby up for the fight.

Hydrated and fueled with a light snack, Abby and Jo made their way to Avalon’s gym.

It was a good workout, one she’d posted the week before. She had a class to lead that night after dark, when it was cool enough to be marginally comfortable. When Abby led classes, her energies were directed to ensuring everyone was safe and pushing themselves appropriately. Her personal workouts had to be squeezed in during the day.

Abby worked up to near her one rep max back squat in a pyramid set she favored. Based on how she felt that day, she would finally hit a PR during this lifting cycle. Then came the gymnastics and cardio sets. Jo abandoned Abby’s functional training for classic powerlifting and accessory work. While he wasn’t as engaging a workout partner as Lev—who had a competitive streak that made things fun—Jo was happy to egg Abby on with quips and teases. When she finished her last string of double-unders, she flipped him off with a grin.

She finished up with a good run through Avalon. The heat was brutal, and her chest hurt at this point in the workout. The rattle of chains along the docks tripped her into a dark memory, one she couldn’t fight or outrun. Abruptly, she remembered the heat of the Rattler’s fields… Then that bloodied, stricken face came to mind, the broken way she whispered, _‘Go.’_

_‘Joel, get up! Please stop. Please don’t do this… Joel, please get up…’_

“Abby!”

Miguel waved at her from his slouched position beside the wide gym doors. She jolted from her thoughts at the sound of his voice. Miguel’s brow furrowed as he studied her. “You cool?”

She touched her chest, pressing hard against the ache there, wiping her face with her other hand quickly. “Yeah.” More firmly, “What’s up?”

“Yasmin called a meeting.”

Miguel would know. He was Yasmin’s second in command on the island, a taciturn compliment to Yasmin’s sheer force of energy. He had always been a quiet observer, but Abby had seen his ferocity on more than one occasion. He put her mind of a big cat, his violent outbursts impossible to predict in the midst of his still energies.

“She wants _me_?”

Miguel didn’t smile. “This is my call. Come on.”

She considered changing, but if they wanted her in a meeting without forewarning, they’d have to deal with her sweat.

“Is Lev back in town?”

“He’s waiting on us too.”

That shook her. Were they in trouble? Was Lev hurt? Christ, was this about Seattle somehow?

“Is everything okay?”

Miguel ignored her question.

Yasmin’s office was in the old casino, a corner room that offered a panoramic view of the ocean beyond the glass. It was hot as hell with the afternoon sun beaming in. Abby set her gym bag down behind her as she nodded to Lev. He seemed steady and not surprised to see her. The fact he wasn’t hurt or upset eased the worst of her fears. Lev’s brief smile was no clue at all about the meeting’s topic. Their outpost leader was a small, dark silhouette that paced behind her desk. Yasmin shot Abby a familiar unhappy look.

What surprised Abby was Alyssa’s presence. Maybe this was a medical equipment thing? Abby tried to catch Alyssa’s eye to offer her a greeting, but when Alyssa saw her, she looked just as surprised to see Abby.

Then Alyssa gasped, “Why is she here?!”

The sharpness of her question made everyone in the office stare. Abby drew back unconsciously, too surprised to be hurt. She couldn’t think of a reason for Alyssa’s anger. They’d had a good day on the boat a couple weeks ago, and just last night Abby coaxed a rare laugh from Alyssa with a joke after book club.

“She’s here because of who her father was,” Yasmin snapped. “Miguel, lock the door.”

Yasmin tossed a thin sheet of paper across her desk, watching Abby closely. Abby glanced at Lev, whose frown did not reassure her. It was a FEDRA bounty; WANTED ALIVE marked the top. As soon as her eyes fell on the picture, Abby swayed. The girl on it was just a kid, scowling with her eye busted up. Though the poster was black and white, Abby’s brain filled in the dark red of her hair and the paleness of her eyes. The paragraph below that shot described the tattoo on her arm. Last known location: Santa Barbara.

Tightness spread across her chest. Her breath didn’t want to come. Abby could picture her clearly from memory: red hair, tattooed arm, face stretched in earnestness as she told Abby who she should be after. Ellie, Lev had reminded her the times they’d talked through Abby’s nightmares. As Lev’s proverb stated, ‘Naming the fear strips its control.’

It had taken her weeks of examining her memory to understand who Ellie was and all the implications of her existence. Ellie. Such an unassuming name, one Abby was sure her father hadn’t solicited that day in Salt Lake City. To name her would have torn him open. But Abby had to. Ellie.

Anything about Ellie spelled disaster.

“Yeah, you recognize her,” Miguel murmured with satisfaction.

Abby set the paper back on the desk. It fluttered with the shake of her hand. Her voice was firmer than she expected, but she has no idea if she sounded normal. “What’s this about?”

“Why didn’t you tell us she was alive?”

Though Abby’s attention was still caught on young Ellie’s defiant glare, she made herself meet Yasmin’s stare. “I didn’t know. I never even saw her in Salt Lake City.”

“Why are you protecting her?” Yasmin accused at the same time that Miguel said, “She’s immune, and you know it.”

Of course they didn’t believe her half-ass lie. Abby looked between Miguel and Yasmin deliberately. “I was protecting us. She tore through Seattle, she tore through the Rattlers, and she would have torn through us! Even if I knew where she is, I wouldn’t say a word because she’ll kill us where we stand.”

“You are a terrible liar,” Miguel muttered.

“I’m not lying!”

“Whatever she is to you, your protection means nothing. FEDRA has her, and it’ll be ten times as hard for us to get her now.”

Abby jerked her gaze from Yasmin to exchange quick, startled look with Lev. For some inexplicable reason, her heart dropped with dread.

Yasmin tossed another photograph on her desk. It was Ellie, closer to what Abby remembered than her bounty photo. Her tattoo, her hair, her unhappy stare. She was strapped to a chair by her chest, arms, and legs in an indiscriminate white room. She wore white scrubs, and there was a bandage on the crook of her elbow.

“Holy...” Abby breathed without thought. “How did they find her?”

“Does it matter?”

Abby looked again at the wanted poster. Someone in Santa Barbara must have recognized Ellie, but Abby had no idea who would know where to find her. Had she gone back to Jackson? How did FEDRA even know she was immune?

“She’s still alive?”

“As of two weeks ago, yes.”

Lev finally broke his silence. “How do we know she hasn’t been killed since then?”

It was Alyssa who supplied the answer, resting her hip on the desk to study the photographs. “They wouldn’t even consider killing her until they can replicate her immunity reliably. That will take years.”

The Fireflies were lucky that a doctor like Abby’s father wasn’t in that lab or Ellie would already be dead.

“Where?”

“San Francisco QZ.”

Yasmin turned her outraged stare to Miguel, who gestured at Abby in response. “She already knows about her. You said to keep this a secret. Yasmin, we talked about this. She was Isaac’s top general. People don’t survive that position, but she did. Look at her.”

Yasmin’s stare made Abby shift in discomfort; she’d seen the same expression on the Rattlers’ faces that first week as they decided how to use her.

Alyssa looked from Yasmin to Abby in disbelief. “She’s not coming with us!”

Us? Fucking Christ, did that mean Alyssa was going into a FEDRA QZ? Yasmin coveted Alyssa and her skills as a doctor and a CBI researcher; it was hard enough to get her on the boat for a simple fishing trip. For Yasmin to approve Alyssa leaving the island...

When Abby opened her mouth to protest, Lev murmured, “Abby.” He gave the slightest shake of his head. The words died on her tongue.

“Are you going too?” she asked him, her gut dropping further. Lev’s expression was all the confirmation she needed.

“This is my call,” Yasmin snapped, for once her displeasure with Alyssa. She sank into her chair bonelessly. “I hope I don’t have to say this to any of you, but we _cannot_ let FEDRA have the cure. If they develop the vaccine, the country is doomed to their fascist dictatorship. This is your father’s life’s work, Abigail.”

Abby firmed. “What are we going to do with her?”

Yasmin was losing patience. “We’re going to bring patient zero back here so we can extract a vaccine ourselves.” Yasmin dismissed Abby with a turn of her head. “Whoever controls the vaccine controls the country. We need this to reestablish our democracy so it’s what we’re going to do.”

Abby was struck by the abrupt desire to grab Lev and get the fuck off this island so they could find their own way. If all she did with the Fireflies was fish and hunt and scavenge, she could easily do that on her own.

But, fuck it, ‘Patient Zero’ had a name.

“I’m in. When do we leave?”

* * *

Yasmin caught Abby on her way out. She peered up into Abby’s eyes, her own dark gaze glittering with distrust. When Abby didn’t back down, Yasmin offered an unpleasant smile. “If there’s any doubt about your loyalty, Miguel will put a bullet in your head.”

Nothing like a death threat to boost morale.

For now, Abby and Lev retreated to their apartment. When the door shut, Lev opened his mouth to speak, but Dalia stood up from the couch and immediately took his attention. Seeing Lev’s girlfriend here wasn’t much of a surprise anymore. Abby slept as often in Avalon’s library as her own bed these days, trying to give the young couple space.

It had been an awkward thing when Lev first started dating Dalia. Not because Abby thought it was wrong, but she’d had to stutter her way through the safe sex conversation with Lev. Thankfully, he’d put an end to both their torture by saying, “You should talk to Al about this. She seems to know a lot more about sex than you do.”

It had taken Abby a few weeks to get over her mortification to broach the topic over a clicker head exchange. She could still picture the smirk on Alyssa’s face as she teased, “To be a fly on the wall for that.”

Lev disappeared into his room on Dalia’s heels. Abby noted the clean apartment kitchen; there was no sign of her dirty dishes from that morning. Lev couldn’t stand messes no matter who made them. Lucky her, unlucky him.

A few minutes later, Dalia offered Abby a wave as she left the apartment. With the door shut and locked, Lev dropped into the seat next to Abby and stared at her for an uncomfortable moment. He needed a haircut; she’d have to borrow clippers from Jo before they left.

“Is this about the cure or is it about her?”

Abby had no answer for Lev’s question, nor did she have anything concrete or logical she could cite to defend her decision to do this. The inexplicable rightness of it sat heavy in her gut. She was helpless to resist the thing telling her this was the only way forward she would be able to live with.

She poured two shots of tequila and pushed one to Lev. He rolled his eyes. “Is this how the Wolves handled emotional situations?”

Abby rolled her eyes right back. “Like the Seraphites had a dry community.”

“She may not want to come with us. What are you going to do then?”

“We can’t just leave her there, Lev.” There was no right move here, was there? She fingered her glass. “Let’s just…concentrate on finding her and getting out of there alive.”

“Just because it feels right doesn’t mean it is.”

She nodded, acknowledging his regrets and her own. “We don’t know how this will turn out. And honestly…” She took her shot, blinking tears away the tequila burned a path down her chest. “I don’t think I can live with—”

A sharp knock on the apartment door became an impatient thump after a moment. Abby and Lev exchanged a look as another hard knock shook the door. “Abby! Lev!”

Alyssa.

Lev indicated Abby should answer. He only shrugged in response to Abby’s incredulous stare. Abby took a bracing breath before she opened the door. Alyssa’s fist was raised; her expression was thunderous with rare dark emotion Abby had never been able to fully interpret. Abby wordlessly led Alyssa into the apartment, pouring her a shot of tequila and sliding it across the table.

Alyssa knocked it back, but in contrast to that harsh movement, she delicately set the glass back onto the table.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice shaking uncharacteristically. She looked up over the rim of her glasses, her discontented gaze moving from Abby to Lev and back again.

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t believe in the cure.” While Abby grappled for an answer—because that was a gross oversimplification—Alyssa continued, “I believe your words were, ‘There’s no cure for evil.’”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”

“This isn’t the way. This is a suicide mission. We all know even if we get that immune woman out alive, I can’t make a vaccine here, not with my current equipment.” She pointed at Abby, who had opened her mouth to say she could get whatever the hell Alyssa needed for this. “Don’t even try to deflect.”

“Why are you going then?” Abby asked instead.

That took some of the wind out of Alyssa’s sails. She sat down wearily. “What is she to you?”

“Who?” Abby tried to summon casual ignorance, but Alyssa’s expression darkened as she called the bluff of Abby’s lie. Abby lowered her gaze to her hands and sat under the weight of Alyssa’s stare. There was no point. Her reaction in Yasmin’s office had been damning.

“Ellie.”

“What?”

“Her name is Ellie. I have to do this because it’s the right thing to do.”

Lev calmly asked, “To lighten the load?”

When Abby met his gaze, he looked back at her with understanding. His support was a relief. Alyssa was not as understanding. “Rescuing her to bring her back here for more of the same is the right thing to do?”

“I know you won’t hurt her.”

“You don’t know that.” Alyssa turned to Lev with sudden aggressive focus. Abby had never seen her like this. “Lev, you need to withdraw from this mission. There is absolutely no reason for you to risk yourself.”

When Lev didn’t reply, Alyssa glared at Abby as if Abby had any control over Lev’s actions. As much as Abby wanted to protest he was happy here; that he had friends, a community, his girlfriend; and had flourished when Abby hadn’t, putting it to words only cemented how tenuous their situation was.

“Lev?” Abby nudged his glass with her own. “Why are you coming?”

“Because you’d die in less than a day without me.”

She saw the intent on his face, and a part of her was crushed by it. He was coming purely for her. Abby prayed she didn’t get him killed, but she knew there was no changing either one of their minds. His assertion, joke or not, had to be acknowledged dryly. “Probably true.”

“You two have no idea what you’re walking into.”

“A CBI lab?” Abby replied dryly. “Or San Francisco? Is it as dry up there?”

For the first time, it hit home that Alyssa had worked in a CBI testing lab. Abby wasn’t surprised. She imagined a facility like the Rattlers, with a line of infected on chains. She’d seen a few of the tests Alyssa ran on the infected samples Abby brought back to her, but Yasmin had vetoed any living infected brought onto the island for good reason. A CBI lab seemed like an unpleasant place at best, especially within an oppressive FEDRA QZ.

Abby wondered if Lev had known that before today.

Finally, Alyssa deflated in defeat. “Foggy at least half the time. A lot cooler overall.”

“Were you a FEDRA doctor or did that come later?”

At first, Abby didn’t think Alyssa would respond. She fiddled with her glass, her lips pursed. “You know what doctors used to vow before they went into practice?”

“Only heard it a hundred times. ‘I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I follow, and gladly share my knowledge with those that follow. I will…apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required, avoiding overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.’”

Alyssa’s smile bloomed wide in obvious surprise. “Of course. You must have learned that from your father.” She pondered that a moment longer as her smile faded. “He died trying to collect the cure from the immune girl, didn’t he?”

Abby didn’t want to air it out, couldn’t stomach talking about the bitter complexity of her relationship with Ellie or how fucking important it had become. Her self-identity felt hinged on the brief interactions they’d shared down to that final broken command to take Lev and go.

It felt painfully unfinished.

“What did you mean, about the oath?” As usual, Lev cut back to the heart of it.

“ _Primum non nocere._ First, do not harm.” Alyssa set her glass aside to touch one palm absently. “I took the oath when I joined the Fireflies. That clause doesn’t exist in FEDRA’s version.”

“My dad used to say that if we could deliver the cure or a vaccine, all the evil before it would be forgiven.”

“I lived that evil, Abby. Nothing will ever justify it.”

“He worked for FEDRA too.” Abby saw Alyssa shift in her peripheral vision but didn’t look up. “He never talked about that part of his life. I don’t think he ever really believed he could make up for any of it either.”

But, fuck, at least that evil was for a purpose. Alyssa didn’t know what Abby had done for the WLF, in the dark dungeon within the FOB or out on the streets of Seattle. What she’d done to Joel. And it had all been for nothing. As far as Alyssa was concerned, Abby was a helpful neighbor that scavenged, restored Avalon’s fresh water supply, and led workouts and book club. As far as Alyssa knew about Jerry, he’d been humanity’s last best hope.

For Abby’s father to struggle to come to terms with killing a child for humanity… He would have carried that weight around for the rest of his life.

Weight like a fucking stone on the nape of the neck. Sometimes it dropped deep into her gut, woke her from a sweating nightmare or shattered the feeling of contentment she earned at odd intervals. And Joel, everyone had agreed, deserved to die. Manny had even reassured Abby Joel had gotten off easy. But for Abby to carry her burden as she did—the painful whisper of why she went so far when every step took her further from the righteous vindication she craved, with Ellie’s grief capping the whole fucking thing perfectly—she couldn’t imagine what her father would have felt for killing a child.

“‘Past sins can’t be changed, but we still control our present and our future.’” Lev punctuated his maxim by pouring another finger of tequila for Abby then Alyssa, whose smile was soft with affection as she studied Lev. Alyssa raised her glass to say, “A toast to that.”

They gently clicked their glasses together and took their shots in quiet contemplation.

The melancholy lingered between them as Abby walked Alyssa back through Avalon. When they arrived at the clinic, Alyssa’s gaze fell to Yasmin loitering on her apartment balcony, and she shrank. Staring up at the second floor, she murmured, “I don’t want to go back.”

“Come back with me then. I’ll sleep on the couch.” When Alyssa didn’t respond, Abby said, “I don’t snore that bad, no matter what Lev says.”

“I still have nightmares about that lab. About my wife…”

“Ask Yasmin to let you stay, then. She would.”

“I can’t.”

Abby glanced at her sneakers, wondering why that hurt. She was curious, but that was nothing new. Sometimes it felt like the only thing connecting them was their separate relationships to Lev. He must know the answer to Abby’s next question.

“What was her name?”

“Tara. I hate her. She’s such a sick fuck. I wish I could blame everything I did on her.”

“Al.” Abby took Alyssa’s shoulders in her hands and pulled the other woman to face her. Alyssa met her gaze, tears glittering on her cheeks. She was so quietly beautiful in the moment, her lips parted and her dark eyes liquid with emotion. Abby wanted to express what she’d felt in her gut the very first moment they’d met.

“You’re a good person.”

Alyssa’s expression twisted. It took a moment for Abby to recognize Alyssa’s anger.

“Fuck you, Abby.” Alyssa spat the words out with painful vitriol and yanked herself from Abby’s loosened grasp, taking the stairs two at a time to disappear into her apartment with Yasmin on her heels. Abby turned her hands over and stared at them in disbelief. How had that gone so wrong?

Funny to be on this side of the coin.

* * *

Weeks after being discharged from Alyssa’s clinic, Abby felt the lingering fear that she and Lev were still sick. Never in her life had her body seemed so separated from what she knew of herself. She was weak, tired, so small, and so goddamn scared all the time.

She knew the recipe to fix the physical parts of herself, and fixing her body surely would help some of her mental problems. That had always been her go-to solution, and the formula had yet to fail her.

When Abby stood on the clinic’s scale for her three-week recheck, she stared at her pathetic hundred thirty pounds of body weight and deflated. She knew it would take months of hard work to regain her strength, but she’d expected to put on more weight than this. The very fact tears rose to her eyes made her angry. She glared at the gaunt face in the mirror. She was so fucking removed from the person she remembered herself to be.

Alyssa rubbed her stethoscope before she pressed it against Abby’s chest, but it was still cold enough to make her flinch. Alyssa offered an apologetic smile before commanding Abby to inhale.

After Alyssa showed Abby her recheck chest x-rays and pronounced Abby was recovering faster than expected, Abby deflated. If this was a good recovery, she couldn’t imagine a bad one.

“It makes me wonder how it feels for Lev. If losing this weight feels so wrong to me, how does his body feel to him?”

“It’s not the same. If anything, you have dysmorphia, not dysphoria,” Alyssa had said distractedly.

“How do you know that?”

Alyssa’s face shifted in a wry smile as she admitted, “I’ve been researching.”

It wasn’t like Abby could criticize that. And fuck, for her to care enough to read about transgender people… Abby hadn’t needed reiteration that Alyssa was someone worth knowing, but she kept getting it anyway.

As the weeks went by, Abby finally started putting on weight, and her strength and fitness gradually returned. It was validating to need new clothes. She forced food in her mouth even when she was full, but it was for a purpose. She could reason herself through what felt like overeating.

She couldn’t reason Lev into eating. They were in a safe place, yet he seemed to wither more with each passing day. Abby tried to be happy with him, she tried get him in the gym by starting fitness classes for the few kids on Catalina Island, she tried to get him to hike up to the overlook for a picnic, tried to take him camping at Two Harbors. Despite her every effort, Lev grew lonelier, sadder, and gaunter with every passing day.

When Abby tipped the scales at one-hundred sixty pounds, Lev weighed no more than he did when they first arrived on the island. Abruptly, all her joking and happiness turned into pure worry. Abby fell to a new low: she took a plate of food into his room and begged him to eat it.

“Please. Just eat this. It’s not that much.”

Lev flushed, his face tightening in anger. Abby was too focused on her own fear to see that he was defensive and closing up. “I told you I’ll eat later!”

“You haven’t eaten all day!”

“Yes, I did!”

“Then why was your breakfast in the goddamn trash?!”

“Fuck you!” he gasped, tears rising to his eyes. He shoved out of bed, pushed past her, and stormed out the apartment. Abby snarled and threw the plate across the hall, where it and all its contents ended up on the wall. The plate clattered to the floor and rolled. She turned away, pressed her hand hard to her mouth, and groaned in frustration.

What was she thinking? What the fuck had she thought she was going to do, confronting him like that? If her jokes and hovering and pushing didn’t work, her fear wasn’t going to either. She was destroying their relationship, and as much as she needed him, he needed her too.

Alyssa admitted Abby into Avalon’s clinic with a smile that faded when she judged Abby’s expression. Alyssa led them both upstairs to her apartment, where Abby cradled a cup of cocoa between her hands and searched for words.

“I need help.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s Lev… He won’t eat. He won’t talk to me. He won’t leave the apartment. He’s not happy, and I think I’m making things worse. I know he needs help. I don’t know what to do or who else I can ask. Has he even been by to see you?”

“Not recently.”

“Can you help him?”

The fear on Alyssa’s face was a surprise. Then she said, “I can try. If he chooses to come to me.”

Abby found Lev at the cliff overlook, his feet dangling from a large rock close enough to the edge of the steep incline to make her nervous. Abby gathered herself with a breath and inched up to sit beside him. _Harness your fear, or whatever…_ Her exhalation was shaky, but she felt a little better with her ass firmly planted on the rock. Her focus was the boy beside her.

Lev wouldn’t look at her.

“I’m sorry.”

He wrapped his arms around himself. His shoulders looked like bone beneath his too-big t-shirt. She hadn’t seen him smile in weeks.

What had she done to them both?

“I freaked out. It wasn’t fair. I’m not…”

“You looked in the fucking trashcan.”

“That was shitty. I’m just worried. This is scaring me, Lev. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”

“You think I don’t want that too?”

“You were right…about Santa Barbara. I’m sorry I put us in that position.”

He finally turned to her, his face open in pain. “That’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” she replied quietly. His silence was damning. “I’m not trying to guilt you. Just if that fucked me up, it must have fucked you up too.”

“You’re getting better.”

Christ, is that what he thought? “I don’t know if I am. I still…go back there when I hear the chains on the docks. I can feel the whip too. I have a nightmare about the pit fights at least every week. Thinking about leaving the island fucking terrifies me because I know they’re still out there.”

When that took him aback, she realized how she’d compounded their problems by pretending they didn’t exist. “I was trying to pretend everything’s okay when it really isn’t. But it can get better.”

“How?”

“Maybe with some medical help?”

Lev looked at his feet. When Abby put a hand on his shoulder, he didn’t shrink away. “How? Nothing’s right.”

“I can’t pretend I get what you feel, but some of it has to be from what we went through.” Abby hesitated. Her fallback had always been talking about herself first. “You know, I’ve been thinking about asking Alyssa if she can help me with all the emotional stuff that’s going crazy in my head.”

Abby knew Lev well enough by now to see he was incredulous. The eye roll was a punctuation mark on that, but he hadn’t given her sass in so long it was refreshing to see. “This isn’t an arm to cut off!”

“The brain’s in charge of almost every part of the body, right? And all those little connections in the brain can get crossed. There are these chemicals in the brain that help it all work together, but the chemicals can get off balance. Alyssa can help fix that part.”

His brow furrowed. “How do you know that?”

“My dad.” How strange. All this time with Lev, but she’d never told him about Jerry’s career. “He was a doctor. He studied brains and how they work. We had some weird dinner conversations. He used to joke he should have named me ‘Agnosia’.”

“You think Alyssa can help?”

She sobered, studied his gaunt face and sharp scars, and felt so much love and thankfulness to have him in her life. “What do you have to lose?”

Lev glanced down the cliff and nodded. When he got to his feet and dusted off his pants, his smile was small but there. Abby briefly looked away to wipe her eyes—then shuddered as her gaze fell to the drop below them. As vertigo made her sway, Lev said, “Okay. But only because you care enough about it to sit on the edge of a cliff.”

 _I care about_ you _that much_ , she wanted to correct, but some things were better left understated.

The first thing Lev asked for was a haircut. Then, without any joking, prompting, or nagging, Lev did what he needed to.

Abby knew seeing Alyssa was a huge step for him, and damn, did he work hard to heal. Within three months, Lev was smiling again, putting on weight, and he even joined Abby at the gym for lifting sessions. It was there that he made friends with the few other teenagers on Catalina Island and started participating in outside activities. By the end of their first year, he’d flourished.

Lev said little to Abby about what was going on, and she left it alone. If Lev wanted to talk to her, he would. He’d never been too much of a talker, but maybe that was because Abby sucked at communication.

When Abby tried to thank Alyssa, Alyssa couldn’t hide her smile even as she said, “He did all the work.”

“Yeah, I know but… Look, I’m trying to say that if you need anything, let me know.” Abby loitered awkwardly at Alyssa’s apartment door, wanting so much to be invited in. Alyssa only looked her over and asked, “Actually… How do you feel about collecting some samples from local infected for me?”

* * *

She had a nightmare about that theater for the first time in years and woke shaking and clutching her neck. She’d dreamed Ellie had strung her up, pressed her switchblade into Abby’s belly, and opened her wide enough to rip out the baby inside. Ellie had been sobbing, pleading for Abby to stop.

“Jesus fuck,” Abby gasped, staring up at the ceiling. Naming the fear stripped its control, but fuck it if she knew what actually scared her in that nightmare.

Lev made breakfast that morning. He mixed whey protein with grits, portioning about fifty percent more for Abby than himself. They had a couple boiled eggs apiece and drank their fill of water on the way to the gym. The morning workout was a nice mix of upper body strength work and lower body cardio.

Lev had once rolled his eyes when Abby got going in the gym for herself and for him. He’d laughed his fill when she slapped her own cheek before a deadlift PR, the jerk. By now he’d bought in enough to cheer her on when she struggled to push out the last rep of chest press.

“Up, up, up, you got this, Abby! Go, go—” Abby’s elbows locked out, and he grinned down at her. “Nice!”

After the weight was racked, Abby sat up and pretended to brush away a tear. “Oh, padawan, how you’ve grown.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, pulling some weight off the bar for his last set. “Why do you call me that?”

“It’s from some old movie. My dad liked it.”

“What’s it about?”

“Space, maybe? There’s definitely better science fiction out there.”

“You’re weird.”

“Weirdly awesome. Alright, Lev, enough fucking around.”

Lev rolled his eyes and dropped under the bar, finding his arch gracefully with his wrists stacked over his elbows. His form was better than hers now. He was damn strong for his size, and he hadn’t lost any of his speed or agility. Hell, he was sometimes more motivated to workout than Abby.

After they’d finished their session with a brutal set of burpees, kettlebell swings, and double-unders, Lev lay panting on the ground and asked, “Why is that a Megan?”

“I don’t know, but I hate her.” Abby exchanged a grin with him. She dropped her fist, and he bumped it with his own.

When she dug through her gym bag for a towel, she realized she’d forgotten to give him something important from the boat the day before. “Hey, Lev. Got something for you.”

He glanced up suspiciously. Abby waggled her brows, earning an eye-roll. She offered him the object tucked between her fingers. His grin brightened Abby’s day and made her worries of their immediate future fade for a moment. Lev rotated the shark tooth between his fingertips and traced one curved edge. Dare she guess he’d make another necklace?

“Mako?”

“Yep.”

His eyes flicked to hers. “How did you find it?”

“Jumped into our boat. I had to wrestle it off Jo.”

Lev raised one brow, pretending to be unamused. “Did you know that when you lie, your eyes get really wide?”

“No, they don’t!” She laughed, earning his smile. “The bastard took a chunk out of our last catch yesterday. Left a present though.”

“Actually, only females feed this time of year.”

“Really?”

“No,” he replied dryly. “Why is lying so hard for you?”

“I’m just too pure. You should come out with us next time. The weather was beautiful. Hardly any waves.”

“Only if you don’t drive the boat.”

“Such a critic. You’re never going to let me live down one small mistake.”

“You crashed into a _beach_. Who does that?”

Their gentle bickering continued on their walk back to the apartment, turning into an even discussion about their lunch.

After lunch, she had a few minutes to stop by the library. Abby shared duties here with Tamsin, one of the oldest Fireflies on the island. Tamsin had joined only a few years after Marlene started the movement. Rumor was she’d been stationed in every major Firefly base in the country. Today, Tamsin was working in the stacks, sorting books and setting those aside that needed repairing.

“Hey, Abby.”

“Heyya.” Abby moved through the rows to place her five borrowed books back in their appropriate places. On her way through the stacks, she picked out a book for the coming journey.

“Just one?” Tamsin asked.

“If it’s okay. I’m gonna be off the island for a while.”

“Take whatever you want, Abigail. Given half of them are here because of you, you’re fine.”

“You still have the lend list, right? And the book club lists?”

“I do.”

“I hate the late notice, but can you take that over until I get back?”

“Three book clubs? I think I can handle it. You have all the discussion questions written out already, right?”

Abby handed over a few sheets. “I had a new book on the list for the adults, but I swapped it out for something I’ve already read so the questions are already prepared. I was thinking that maybe the kids could do an illustration of _The Root Child_. It’s all here; just do what you think is best.”

Tamsin’s brow gathered. “How long will you be gone?”

“Hopefully not long.” Hopefully they wouldn’t die in that QZ. Hopefully Ellie wouldn’t kill them. Hopefully leaving would be all she needed to know she wanted to come back.

With only a few minutes to spare, Abby knocked on Yasmin’s office door. Yasmin called her in impatiently. Sometime between the last meeting and now, Yasmin had placed a picture of Alyssa on her desk at an angle that begged Abby’s second glance.

Sometimes it was hard to believe Yasmin was at least a decade older than Abby. Did this woman really think she had the emotional maturity to lead a nation by rationing a vaccine? If it weren’t so infuriating, she’d be amused that Yasmin thought Abby was a threat.

Abby settled into the chair in front of Yasmin’s desk and affected a casual expression. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Why did you volunteer for this mission? You’ve repeatedly declined Miguel’s requests to join the FEDRA response unit.”

Is that what they were calling it? Abby retorted, “I’m not a fan of robbing civilians of their goods.” Fuck, why could she not hold her tongue with this woman?

Yasmin glowered at her. “You were one of Isaac’s favorites in the WLF, weren’t you? What happened?”

Abby wanted to point out she would have been happy leading a raiding party on the Rattlers, but Yasmin had brushed away her requests. Abby had learned over a year after the fact how close the Rattlers were to collapsing entirely. Apparently Ellie had released enough slaves to stage a small-scale rebellion and destroy their largest hub. If only…

“I grew up.”

Yasmin slowly released her breath—her anger barely controlled—and folded her hands. Her dark eyes fixed on Abby’s. “Why this mission?”

“Because this is for something bigger. This is the reason why so many people fought for the Fireflies. You said it: it’s the thing my father worked for his entire career.” She delivered those words as easily as she’d practiced.

“I don’t need hesitation on this team. You’ll be entering enemy territory, infiltrating a heavily-guarded facility, and extracting the most valuable piece of property FEDRA currently owns.”

_Property._

“I’ll be an asset. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t think so.”

“Alyssa’s presence on this mission played no part in your decision?”

Dangerous grounds. Yet Abby remembered Alyssa’s fear keenly. “No, ma’am. But… Why risk her?”

Yasmin’s jaw clenched. “She’s made it known she would be invaluable on the team. The fact I agree is all you need to know.”

What the fuck was Yasmin smoking? What the fuck was Alyssa smoking for that matter? Yasmin studied Abby with naked displeasure. “I’m approving your request to volunteer only because Miguel asked for you. But make no mistake. He’ll—”

“Kill me if I fuck up. I get it.”

The long meeting about infiltrating the QZ didn’t help her mood. She and Lev were backup for Miguel, who would be taking Alyssa into the CBI Lab. The Firefly agents inside the QZ would have uniforms and passes ready for Miguel and Alyssa; Abby and Lev would be on standby to get them out of the lab and QZ violently if needed. Yasmin had been right; there had actually been planning around this mission, enough to make Abby believe they could at least get into the QZ if not out of it.

The casualness by which Miguel asked Lev for input pissed her off. Because it meant Lev had been participating in missions she didn’t know about or because she didn’t care for Miguel, Abby couldn’t parse. She stewed on that anger. It didn’t help to later overhear Lev and Dalia’s argument over him leaving. The fact Lev couldn’t promise he’d come back was a bitter pill to swallow, one that made Dalia cry.

Lev was acknowledging a possibility Abby hadn’t faced yet.

She’d asked Jo to lead the workout tonight but wondered if it would have been better to distract herself with it. Just as she decided to go down to the gym, a knock sounded on the apartment door. Given Lev and Dalia had left the apartment at separate times, she expected Dalia at the door. Instead, Alyssa offered a tentative smile and asked, “You eaten yet?”

“Hey.” Abby leaned against the door, surprised to see Alyssa after their last bitter exchange. “No. Not really hungry.”

“You of all people know that’s no excuse. Come on.”

Abby shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts as she followed a pace behind Alyssa. She studied the other woman’s slender frame, her graceful movements, and the feminine lines of her face. Nothing about her hinted at her bitter exclamation the night before.

Abby paused at the steps that led up to Alyssa’s apartment. On the second landing, Alyssa turned and waited. She’d braided her hair tight to her scalp since the meeting, giving her a sleek, fierce look. With her braids and no glasses, Alyssa looked like a stranger.

Abby had to ask, “Are we okay?”

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?”

She couldn’t hide her incredulity. “It’s not on me.”

Alyssa bit her lip, looked down, and nodded.

Abby felt so damn fragile in the moment. Alyssa was the only Firefly on this island that she wanted as more than an acquaintance. Lev had grown up and left her a little behind, making his own friends, forging his own relationships, and good for him for doing it. But here Abby was, alone, trying desperately to be less alone with someone who seemed even lonelier than she was.

“I’m sorry.” By the look on Alyssa’s face, the apology was honest. She offered a tense smile and jerked her chin. “I have food ready.”

They carried their dinner up to the roof. It was a flavorful fish stew, spicy enough to make Abby’s nose run. When they were finished, Alyssa sat with her feet dangling off the roof, dropping a weight into Abby’s gut. Alyssa glanced back over her shoulder and paused. “I forgot you have a thing with heights.”

“A thing, sure,” Abby echoed, releasing a breath of relief when Alyssa walked back to the center of the roof and sat down beside her.

“Is it true you fell off a crane between skyscrapers?”

“It was the Sky Bridge, thank you. Lev really likes oversharing the worst moments of my life.”

“That was brave.”

“Except I was shitting my pants the whole time.”

“You did it for his sister.”

Well, shit. Alyssa knew more than Abby realized. She wasn’t sure how that made her feel. Flattered or terrified? She wondered what else Lev might have disclosed.

“For someone who did that to tell me I’m a good person… It hit wrong. That’s on me.”

“You haven’t been anything but good to him. Or to me.”

“‘Get me a clicker brain, Abby,’” Alyssa sneered.

“How many times was the address for said clicker next to a library or warehouse after Yasmin denied my request?”

Alyssa shook her head. “We’re going to die in that QZ.”

“I’ve faced worse odds before. I fell off a fucking skyscraper. Hell, that’s just down the list from the infected I killed in a hospital basement.” Finally, Alyssa smiled. Abby wondered at all the sadness behind that smile. Abby admitted, “I’m just worried about getting you and Lev out of there alive.”

“I’d made my peace with dying in that QZ until I realized you and Lev were coming too. You really fucked up my plans, Abby.”

Before Abby could blurt her startled question about what the fuck that meant, Alyssa continued, “Have you even considered that FEDRA’s going to follow us back? There’s no way we can keep them off our island.”

“We’ll deal with that later.”

Alyssa laughed bitterly, dropping her head against her knees. She wrapped her arms around her head and shivered in the descending cool of the early evening. “What’s she like?”

“Who?”

“Ellie.”

Abby glanced up at the blanket of stars above them. All she could picture was the flash of a switchblade and the grief-stricken scream of pain, _‘I’ll fucking kill you.’_ Then, finally, Abby was able to pull out the memory of Ellie standing in that theater with her hands up, her face stretched in earnestness as she declared Abby had killed Joel for want of the cure.

“Red hair. Freckles. Small like you.” Abby smiled bitterly. “Pretty like you too. She’s got a tattoo on one arm.”

“What happened between you?”

She couldn’t stomach the thought of laying out all the ugliness of the truth. All she could say was, “It’s complicated.”

“If you ever want to talk about it...”

“Thanks.” And she meant it. But about this… Abby couldn’t. She turned her head and rested her cheek on her forearms. Alyssa reached out to brush a strand of Abby’s hair behind her ear and leaned close to kiss her temple. Abby lifted her chin as Alyssa withdrew, and their cheeks brushed.

“What was that?” Abby asked with a breathless laugh.

“You’re too good for me, Abby.”

That hurt like hell. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why does it even matter?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Alyssa asked sharply. “How can I ignore what I did?”

“You don’t ignore it. You just…move on. Let go. If we’re going to hell, then why not enjoy the time we have before we get there?” Rarely had Abby ever felt Owen’s earnestness, but now was one of those times. She took Alyssa’s hand and squeezed gently. Not for the first time, she noticed how small Alyssa’s hand was in hers. The contrast of their skin was compelling. “Al, you’re allowed to be happy.”

“Why aren’t you then?”

As Abby grappled to respond, Alyssa casually stated, “You know, I played Russian roulette once.” She pulled her hand from Abby’s. She made a gun with her fingers, flicked an invisible cylinder, and touched her wrist like she’d snapped it shut. “Six shooter. Loaded one round. Put it to my head. Seventeen percent chance of death. Better odds than in my lab any day.”

Just seeing her press her fingertips to her temple made Abby flinch.

“I survived five trigger pulls. And the whole time I’m asking God why I’m so lucky. I’ve nearly died so many times. In combat, in the lab. Then I thought to myself, _Allie, you of all people know how to kill._ I pulled the trigger again. Know what happened?

“It jammed. I can count on one hand how many times that revolver jammed on me. So why not when I was facing down a Stage Four or when a Firefly agent broke into my apartment to torture me to death? It had to be a sign. Clearly whatever God there is was saying I had more suffering to do. Then I decided I might as well not suffer there anymore.”

Of all the things to say, Abby blurted, “I don’t really believe in god.”

Alyssa’s laugh was abrupt, clear, and beautiful. Her smile was slow, just wide enough to show the straight line of her teeth. “How are you and Lev so close?”

Abby shrugged, disappointed for a reason she couldn’t identify. “He’d know what to say right now.”

“Listening is enough.”

With a sigh, Abby pulled Alyssa to her feet. “God or not, I’m glad you’re here.”

Alyssa stepped into her. It took Abby a moment to process what was happening. As soon as she did, Abby folded Alyssa into a hug as tightly as she dared, afraid that if she hesitated she’d lose this opportunity. She missed physical contact so much. It felt good to pull Alyssa flush against her. She was small, solid, and warm in Abby’s arms; Abby took a deep breath of her clean scent and released it in a sigh.

“What the hell are we doing?” Alyssa asked against her chest.

“I like to think of it as avoiding more regrets.”

“That’s good. I don’t think I can live with more.”


	5. Rat in a cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hella fun to write.

Something was wrong. She was crushed by claustrophobic terror. She had to know what it was to fight it or escape it, but she was paralyzed by the realization of the scope of her terrors. It breathed over her shoulder like a dark shadow, and she was too afraid to turn and look it in the eye, like a frozen deer.

“Hey, kiddo.”

And just like that, her fears faded into the inherent trust that this man could fix it. He would know what to do. She turned around, meeting his smile with her own. “Hey, Joel.”

“How you doing, kiddo?” He tilted his head, and the light caught his eyes. They were gray today.

“Not so great.”

“Nothing a good song won’t fix.” Joel settled the guitar on his knee and offered her a so rare shy smile. Then he plucked and strummed, humming softly.

She awoke with a smile.

Reality filtered in, and with it, the burn of helpless terror. Ellie blinked out tears, her chest shuddering with her heavy sigh. She hadn’t dreamed in weeks. Her fear was all the worse for its brief respite moments before. For weeks, she’d lived in this hell of never knowing if the next moment would be her last.

Underneath her constant hum of anxiety was physical hunger so great she felt sick. The scent of food made her salivate. She closed her eyes and turned over. Her body was rebelling against her, wracking her with cramps hard enough to make her curl up and moan.

It wasn’t until she pissed in the toilet that she realized she was bleeding. Was it only a month in this hell? It felt so much longer.

She was going fucking insane, wasn’t she?

There was a hum at the door to her cell. Two big FEDRA Enforcers in gas masks stepped into her room; one watched her pull her pants back up while the other kept his face averted. “All this fucking food for one bitch,” one muttered. He was the Hyde of the pair, and his gaze lingered on her crotch. The other, Jekyll to his partner, cleared his throat and said, “Ellie? Time to get going.”

“Where?” she asked dully.

“MRI. Let me see your hands.”

Hyde yanked her off her feet, his meaty paws slamming her wrists together.

“Come on, man,” Jekyll chided. He barely touched her elbow as she rose, steadying her when she swayed in dizziness. As Hyde unlocked the door to the main lab, he murmured, “You should eat.”

The walls were all gray and white, the desks clean. Many held humming computers. There were at least half a dozen people in orange creaking suits moving around the room, attached to the ceiling with coiled umbilici. The sound of the air pumped into their suits was deafening.

She’d always wanted to be an astronaut in another reality, but she’d turned out to be an alien in this one.

Ellie barely glanced at the woman that was strapped to a bed against the wall. It wasn’t a new thing, not even seeing her rock and scream when an orange-suited tech approached with a yellow injection pen marked with a biohazard sign. As the pen snapped and hissed, the woman’s wail rose to a shriek, and Ellie stumbled, taken back to Abby below her as the knife penetrated her skin.

Jekyll’s grip tightened; that helped her breathe despite her shallow gasps.

Another person infected. They’d move her to an observation room beside Ellie’s and watch her turn. Ellie could predict what hour human cries of fear turned into inhuman shrieks of rage and pain. She hated their sounds and the fear they inflicted on her.

The MRI lab was accessible only by exiting the corridor of horrors. Along the way, the meaty scent of infection made her gut cramp. There was a vivisection going on today; she had the selfish thought that if someone else was on that table, she couldn’t be.

Ellie walked compliantly with her two guards as they paced down the corridors and locked doors to arrive at the dimly lit set of rooms. The MRI was a loud, claustrophobic piece of shit, but it was noninvasive. Sometimes she could doze in it.

Jae—one of the two doctors who had penetrated her with every sharp object in this fucking building—was waiting for them in the dim interior of the MRI lab. His huge orange full-body suit smelled like bleach, and his face was sweaty behind his clear face face-shield. His gaze was flat with disgust as he surveyed Ellie.

His voice came through the speakers on the wall, along with the hiss of air from inside his suit. “There’s been a change of plans.”

The two men marched her to the adjacent room. Ellie stiffened in dread; she knew all the things they took from her in here. Spinal taps, organ biopsies, nasal swabs, bleeding her almost dry to take all their goddamn samples. She couldn’t do this again.

“Get Director Tara, Casey.”

Jekyll paused, glancing from Jae to Hyde before he nodded and waited for Hyde to take Ellie’s arm. He didn’t look back as he left the room. Hyde’s grip on Ellie’s arm was bruising, and as always, he made it a point to move her faster than she would or could.

When Hyde pushed her into the sampling chair and all its buckling restraints, Ellie landed a blow between his legs that made him gasp and sink to his knees. She gave everything in the next moment, catching Jae’s wrist to yank him towards her. The strength of her pull combined with the swing of her arm resulted in the most satisfying hit in her life, even through his face-shield. Something popped—her knuckles or his nose—and then she felt a sting in her thigh. Before she could do more than swing wildly at Hyde, she went woozy and weak. Their shouts of anger didn’t translate as she sank to the floor in a swoon.

She came back sometime later, strapped uncomfortably tight on the MRI table. The top of the tube was less than a foot from her face, and through her headphones, she could hear the whirring grind and click of the machine. Ellie blinked, and several tears slipped down her temples. She had no idea how much time she’d lost or what they’d done to her in that blank period.

What the fuck was she doing? Even if she could kill one of them, it wouldn’t be worth the consequences. Breaking Jae’s nose was nothing. It wasn’t like she could even infect him.

She’d lost count of the weeks. She was exhausted, starving, terrified, and more than anything, enraged. Her life had become a loosely joined clip of lucid moments connected by periods of blankness and illusions: sedation or anesthesia, only half of which she brought on herself by lashing out in blind rage.

For the first time, she realized she’d given up on ever escaping this hell.

She wasn’t a hunted deer; she was a rat in a fucking cage.

They took no chances now, sedation at the ready and restraints tight. She was strapped into a wheelchair for transportation back to her cell. They left her in that chair for half an hour before Jae waddled across the lab in his suit.

Even with his face swollen and bruised, Jae’s dark anger was obvious. In her cell, he attached himself to the spiral that was secured to the ceiling by a lock. He remained silent—though the sound of his gas was nearly a roar—as he surveyed her cell in its entirety: blank white walls, a toilet, a cubby table built into the wall, and a pallet with a thin mattress.

“You will eat,” Jae finally said, his voice nasally even projected by the speakers in her cell. “This self-starvation nonsense has gone on long enough. _Eat_!”

Ellie remained silent, her stare at his shoulder. Jae’s face twisted in anger. “Do you have any idea what people in this QZ would give to eat your rations?”

Once, she would have told Jae to give them the chance to take her place, but taunting only earned oblivion. She still felt weak and sick from the last injection and didn’t want to take another. Ellie kept her gaze on his shoulder.

“If you don’t eat this food—” He indicated the new tray on the table—“we’re going to give you a PEG tube.” He paused, as if she would know the relevance. “We’ll put a camera down your throat to make a hole in your stomach, and we’ll feed you through it. You’ll be awake for that procedure.”

Fuck him. Fuck his threats. The food that went in her mouth was the only thing in this entire fucked up situation she could control.

He waited a moment longer before shoving himself to his feet in obvious anger. As he left, Ellie’s two guards removed her restraints, instructed her to face the wall, and locked her in. She’d tried once or twice to get out in this scenario, but it always ended in the oblivion of…what did they call it? Chemical restraint. Like she was a skittish horse getting shoed.

Ellie stared at the food, her gut cramping, every instinct in her begging to eat. “Fuck you,” she whispered, dropping the tray on the floor. She knew they watched her every move, whether it was her shitting on the toilet or sleeping on her cot or talking to herself in her delirium.

They treated her like a fucking animal so she might as well act like one. Ellie dropped her pants, squatted, and pissed on the food. The menses added a nice touch to her gesture.

She set herself to right and climbed onto her pallet to find some relief with rest. Maybe she’d even sleep.

* * *

Back when Ellie was living in Maria’s guest bedroom, she’d never let herself look ahead to not staying there. Even when Dina started questioning why they were living apart, even when she pointedly asked Ellie when they could start living together again, Ellie couldn’t commit.

“Why?” Doc Jons had asked her finally.

It had been a year since Ellie came back to Jackson. She couldn’t quantify how much better she was now than just a year ago, fuck two years ago, but… “I’m still not right.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his smile gentle. “When do you think you’ll be ‘right’?”

She didn’t miss his emphasis and felt herself deflate. “Probably never.”

“Doesn’t seem like a realistic goal from where I sit.” He cleared his throat, passing her his thermos. She sipped the tea inside as she considered his criticism, mild that it was. Then she smacked her lips and was diverted.

“Is this more weed tea?”

“Trying a new recipe.”

Ellie chuckled and handed it back. “Tastes like ass.”

“Eugene told me it was a waste, but I’ll find a way.”

“Sure, old man. Not like we’re going to run out anytime soon.”

“How have you been feeling?”

Doc Jons was open to tangents, but he always led them back to his focus. Since he didn’t bite on her lead about their crop that season, Ellie put herself to the conversation at hand. “Not bad. Maybe better than I have since Joel died.”

“Would living with Dina and JJ and Jesse’s parents make you happy?”

“Sure. I guess I’m…scared.”

“Why?”

She frowned at him. Doc Jons looked back at her sympathetically. Ellie glanced down at herself fiddling with her fingertips. “Joel told me once that it’s a life-long responsibility. You protect your family, you provide for them, and you make them as happy as you can.”

“Sounds a lot more daunting than I ever considered.”

Doc Jons had no family, though there were rumors that he was sweet on a trader that came through every year. Ellie struggled to find her humor as she nodded. “Yeah, pretty terrifying.”

“Ellie, do you want my advice?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Doc Jons smiled gently. “Of course. Ignore me if this doesn’t apply, but... You can’t love your family if you don’t love yourself.”

He saw what she didn’t say: that she’d failed them already. She’d led Dina to Seattle, put her in Abby’s path, and then she’d abandoned Dina and JJ. She’d been so self-absorbed that she told herself that leaving them would be a blessing. She had considered herself a burden, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized her lack of self-esteem was an indulgence in a way.

It was easier to pretended she was freeing them to make herself feel better about her selfish choice. Maybe she would have killed herself on that farm, but she would have at least planned for it better than up and walking out before dawn without giving Dina any preparation. She’d left Dina alone on a farm with their baby boy, no protection, and more chores than they’d been able to comfortably handle between them. She hadn’t sent for James, hadn’t warned Dina of her decision, hadn’t done a damn thing except leave.

How could someone who did that to her family deserve this second chance? Sometimes Ellie wondered how Dina had forgiven her so readily. But Dina knew how to let go in a way that Ellie envied.

Doc Jons’ words hung in her mind for weeks. When Dina finally asked her to move in again, Ellie found that all her previous excuses fell away. The bare truth was, “I don’t deserve you.”

She would never forget Dina’s reply, even if she couldn’t remember the exact moment that the message was delivered.

“It’s not about that. I love you. JJ loves you. I want to live with you because _you make me happy._ ”

It really was as simple as that, wasn’t it? Protect, provide, and make as happy as you goddamn could. Ellie was punishing herself, which was punishing Dina and JJ. It was time to grow up and accept who she was and what she’d done. It was time to let go. If she could do that, maybe she would deserve this life after all.

The problem was how she would fulfill those duties to her family in her current situation.

* * *

“Hello, Ellie.”

She’d expected Jae, but Tara’s low cadence startled her. Any surprise compounded her helplessness. She slowly rolled over, her gaze moving from the stack of pads on the table to the tray of food sitting there. Her message from last night had been cleaned up while she slept. Had they drugged her to keep her asleep?

Then she realized Tara wasn’t wearing a positive pressure suit. She was bare, the first unprotected face Ellie had seen in what felt like eternity. Tara had brought in a rolling chair and sat casually in it with her legs crossed. Jekyll and Hyde—in their customary masks—framed her like hulking bodyguards. Tara removed her glasses and slipped them into her pocket. She studied Ellie silently. Finally, her expression shifted into naked sympathy.

“I’ve brought fresh clothes and sanitary napkins. We’ll arrange for bathwater and clean sheets after our meeting.”

Ellie remained silent.

Tara cocked her head, her dark gaze wide and hopeful. There was something about the shape of her eyes that reminded Ellie of Dina, and she loathed it. “Ellie, I’m saddened by this conflict between us. I’d hoped you would come around to our cause by now, but I realize that I’ve…taken for granted your appreciation for our vision. I always believed that anyone approached with the possibility of developing a vaccine for CBI would immediately understand how noble that cause is.” She held Ellie’s gaze a moment longer. “For that, I have to apologize.”

That was enough to startle Ellie, and by the faint quirk of Tara’s lips—a tell given, not betrayed—Tara had desired that reaction. “We took for granted your happiness, your loneliness. I didn’t consider for a moment what you would be leaving behind…”

 _Leaving?_ Fucking ‘leaving’?!

“What can we do to make you happy here? Hobbies, exercise, better food, companionship?” Tara waited Ellie out for a moment before focusing on her tangent. “You must miss your family terribly. Your wife and son.”

Ice flooded Ellie’s chest, and her breath caught. Tara leaned forward over her crossed legs, and her sympathetic smile took a feral undertone. “Your wife’s name is Dina. Your son is JJ. Honestly, I was a little disappointed to learn he isn’t your biological child.”

“They have nothing to do with this.”

“But surely they miss you too. If given the choice, don’t you think they’d be happy to come here to facilitate regular visitation? Even the rarest chance of spreading your immunity should be tested, and if we can’t get it from you...”

It came a moment later: the rage that boiled up, burned through her, and consumed her. Her vision went red, and the room tilted. But she held the emotion close, considered it almost clinically. What a powerful emotion, even more so than the mixture of wrath and guilt that drove her to Seattle. It gave her sudden startling focus.

“Don’t,” Ellie said quietly.

Tara leaned back, eyes wide in question. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ll eat.”

“Eating isn’t enough, Ellie. Every violent interaction erodes our trust in each other, and each sedation risks your life. We’ll be honest about our procedures, but you will cooperate with every test.”

“Yes,” Ellie replied. “Just…don’t bring them here.”

“If you cooperate, I’ll know you’re happy, and that won’t be necessary. I need you to say it, Ellie.”

“I’ll cooperate.”

Tara waited, and Ellie realized with a fresh jolt of disbelief what else she wanted to hear. For her family, Ellie said, “I’ll be happy.”

“Wonderful,” was Tara’s bright reply. “Bring in the bathwater and pan.”

Tara remained in her cell, instigating inane chatter and prompting Ellie’s replies. Maybe someone without a fucking brain would mistake Tara’s conversation as an olive branch, but Ellie could feel the lust in the woman’s gaze as she watched her bathe and pull on fresh clothes. The only thing Tara wanted more than Ellie’s immunity was power, and she’d finally proven to Ellie she held all the cards. Ellie had no choice but to submit.

Rather than beat her down, Ellie’s rage and helplessness woke her up. It was time to stop fucking around. The only way out of this was to be smart, not reckless. And that meant taking care of herself. It meant eating. It meant complying.

Ellie sat cross-legged in front of the cubby that served as her table. The tray held chicken, broccoli, and potatoes. When she ate her first bite, it was like the dam burst. She shoveled the food down with the voracious hunger of someone who had fasted for: “Fifteen days. A part of me is impressed. Thank you, Ellie.” Tara watched Ellie hiccough after eating so quickly. She stood over Ellie and offered a smile, reaching out to take the tray.

Ellie’s hand darted out, her grip closing over Tara’s wrist. Tara flinched—her entire body drawn back in fear and her eyes wide like a startled deer—but before Hyde could yank her away, Ellie smiled, let go, and said, “Thank you for giving me a choice.”

It was reckless, even after she’d told herself to be smart, but she needed to see the fear in Tara’s eyes.

* * *

Cooperation was rewarded as readily as struggle had been punished. By the end of the second week, she lay still for a spinal tap, supplied a urine sample, and despite her fear of the procedure, complied with their request for a light anesthesia to take biopsies of the skin of her arm. She awoke with two new incisions that misaligned the pattern on her moth.

In return, they granted Ellie’s request for sheets, a steel-string guitar, a sketchpad, and a set of colored wax. It took her nearly a day to be satisfied with her sketch of JJ. She wondered how his birthday had gone, if Dina had given him the guitar, if she’d cut his shaggy curly mop yet, if he’d gotten more freckles on his nose. She kissed the pads of her fingers and brushed them over his blue-lined face. “Miss you, Tater.”

Over the next three days, she worked on Dina, Tommy, Maria, and Joel. She spent most of her time studying their rough approximations, aching for them, for her home and her life. Praying for their safety and happiness. Dina was right: it was a comfort.

They installed a mirror behind a clear barrier sometime during one of her procedures. It still startled her to stand and see her reflection. The ridges of her ribs were already filling out, her breasts slightly more visible. She flinched to see her gaunt, wide-eyed reflection. The shadows under her eyes had softened, but the ones lurking in her eyes remained.

Beside that mirror was a television set, and eventually, they gave her the option to play music through her overhead speakers. Many of the songs she’d never heard before, and she spent her idle hours figuring out the chords and lyrics. She wrote them in her journal because she needed some sense of normalcy.

Dinner one evening arrived with visitors. Usually the doctors interrupted her sleep by coming in around midnight; this visit was unusual. Hyde stood behind the Jae, who sat on a chair he wheeled in and watched Ellie eat. Behind his orange suit and clear face-shield, Jae’s nose had a new lump on the bridge, but his bruises had long-since faded. “Good evening.”

“Yep,” Ellie replied. She glanced up at Hyde, who held out a headset and microphone. Ellie slipped it over her ears, moving the microphone up so she could eat unencumbered.

“I have a few questions regarding your infection.”

“Shoot,” she said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

It went about like she expected, except they asked questions they must already know the answers to: her age, her parents, where she grew up. Ellie dutifully described when and how she was first exposed as she scraped her dessert of tart fruit pie with meringue on top.

“Have you been exposed again?”

“Sure. Spores.”

“Bitten a second time?”

“Nope.”

His gaze was direct, but she didn’t balk. His questions continued, from mundane to too damn personal, and she varied her answers from truthful to lies but was careful to keep all within the realm of possibility. When he seemed to run out of steam, she had her own question. “Why am I immune?”

That made him hesitate, and she realized with a flash of disbelief that they didn’t know. They’d taken every piece of her possible, sampled enough to build another whole fucking human being, and they still _didn’t know._

What the fuck.

What was the goddamn point of all these samples if they still didn’t know what made her immune?

It wasn’t lost on her that they put a new movie on that television that evening. She leaned back in her cot and set her gaze on it, thirsty for faces and voices that weren’t her captors, even if those voices were piped through the walls too. Yet one thought drowned it all out: did this justify Joel or further damn him?

* * *

Dina was a warm, welcome weight on her body, one leg flung over Ellie’s thigh, her breath whispering over Ellie’s collarbone. JJ was curled up against her hip. Ellie nosed Dina’s hair and stroked her fingertips through JJ’s curly mop. She felt such an aching sadness in the moment it stunned her.

She awoke with a long sigh.

Was it a blessing or a curse to be dreaming regularly again? Dreams usually meant better sleep, but Ellie still felt the dark exhaustion of depression. That wasn’t going to change.

She missed human touch so much. The dream brought out the aching need to see her family again. Ellie spent a minute gazing at the pictures of Dina and JJ she’d taped against the wall by her face. “Miss you so much,” she whispered. The sound of her own voice was a surprise.

She dressed herself in her invariable white scrubs, ate her breakfast readily, and complied to Hyde and Jekyll’s commands. She paid careful attention to the path to the exercise yard outside.

The entire lab seemed to be made of concrete. That day, they passed through narrow gap between what she assumed was the concrete barrier of the lab and the outside building’s wall. They emerged into an exercise yard ringed by a chain link fence that was set behind a high wooden wall. The fence was topped with barbed wire, as if it weren’t inviting enough already.

The sun was bright, but the air was comfortably cool. She’d been allowed out here almost daily for a month, and either it was misty or bright with sun. The air temperature felt largely unchanged, warmth dependent on the sun. Ellie soaked in the sun and paced the yard, listening for sounds outside the walls. Her gaze flicked around for any discarded objects.

Only a firm bouncing ball and a jumping rope remained. As she jumped rope—gasping and fatigued after a few minutes—she calculated the risk of trying to steal it, but she’d never get away with it, not with her two guards watching her every move. She couldn’t risk her freedom and her lucidity over a fucking jump rope.

It still was a weird thing to see her guards shed their gas masks. Their faces didn’t match those she’d unconsciously assigned them. Hyde sat on a concrete bench and leaned back into the sun, but Jekyll picked up the ball with one hand and offered it with his brows raised.

Jekyll—Casey—actually smiled when he played ball with her. They lobbed the ball at two hoops clipped into the chain link fence for points, and they both attempted to do what Casey called dribbling. To her surprise, he started trash talking today, his smile genuine enough that she felt comfortable enough to give him shit back.

Another guard brought out her lunch so she could eat outside. It was fish and rice and broccoli today. Her dessert was yogurt with chopped almonds and dark dried fruit that was tangy and sweet in one. She had no idea what the fruit was called, but it was good.

When she got back to her cell, she sketched the wrinkled curve of the brown fruit and wrote a description of the taste for JJ:

_Flesh melts under teeth,  
Musky, sweet, and faintly tart,  
Like the smell of spores._

They gave her random books to read, but the one about the different styles of poetry was surprisingly stimulating. Haikus had become her standard for a few weeks. She couldn’t help herself when she added another line:

_Looks like a butthole._

Beneath, she sketched a series of lines, remembering her path to the outer yard. It was disguised in another illustration. She wasn’t stupid; there was no doubt they looked at her sketchbook when she was out of her cell.

Today in the exercise yard, she’d heard two big trucks drive by, but there was nothing in that yard that gave her hope to be able to make it over the barbed wire or the tall wall beyond.

She’d never paid much attention to her movements through the lab and could only vaguely remember the corridors beyond what she’d seen in the last few weeks. She’d either been too drugged up or too blinded by her rage. She wished she hadn’t wasted all that time acting like a fucking idiot.

She was reasonably sure she was living on the first floor. She knew the codes that Casey and Hyde used to open the doors. Each had their own unique code that presumably only worked with their specific passes. So far, their codes had changed once.

Her cell was on the far side of a dead-end lab filled with anywhere from two to six suited workers. There were a couple more cells that flanked hers, but none led anywhere. There was only one way out, a set of double doors only unlocked with a pass, and it spilled into a long, narrow hallway that held a various infected chained behind clear barriers. It u-turned through another set of locking doors into the hallway that had a few surgery suites. She’d seen enough gore and suffering there to figure those rooms were reserved for infected vivisections.

Beyond the vivisection hallway/horror corridor was a perpendicular wider main hall. The MRI and the sample labs were off that main hall. The main hallway also held a variety of laboratories, each with their own orange-suited workers. She rarely got a good look in those rooms; the hallway was too wide. However, it seemed less populated and more sterile. Given there was a placard proclaiming the vivisection hallway was the J Anderson CBI Laboratory—whoever the fuck they were—she’d bet no infected subjects were allowed beyond its doors.

The lab she lived in was protected by security she couldn’t numerate. Every lab worker, aside from the military guards, wore pressure suits attached to the ceiling by coiled hoses; the hoses were tipped with metal heavy enough to make an impact when they swung after being released.

She’d been reading a book about partial and full pressure suits for high altitude and vacuum exploration in Jackson and could guess the mechanics of these suits: air was pumped in to prevent contaminated lab air from entering the suits. The vent in the back allowed excess pressure to be released passively. She wondered what would happen if the vent was closed. The suits were cumbersome, and the dome that covered the head was only clear in the front. Add to that, the air that was pumped into the suits prevented the wearers from hearing anything that didn’t come through their headsets.

The military personnel though… They just wore gas masks and canvas clothes. She’d seen only a handful other than Hyde and Jekyll. Each one carried sedative pens and a CEW. The first week in the lab, Ellie had managed to inject Hyde with his own sedative pen. That was the only time they used a CEW on her since her imprisonment.

As Ellie pondered her situation, she paced her cell, played guitar, and sketched. After lunch, she lay down and spent a few hours imagining a perfect day with Dina and JJ. Then, she settled in to read one of the two books in her room, only interrupting that to eat dinner.

She glanced up to see another poor fool rocking in his restraints as an orange-suited worker approached. The barrier of her cell was soundproof, but she was well-versed in the swish and snap of the CBI infection pen.

“Sorry, babe. Looks like a puker,” Ellie said to Dina’s picture on the wall.

As she predicted, the newly infected man puked all over himself.

He was going to turn between two and five the next morning. It was best to fall asleep before they escorted him into the neighboring cell. Though the cells were soundproof from the rest of the lab, they weren’t from each other. Ellie shut her notebook and settled into bed on her back, relaxing one muscle at a time until sleep crept up and settled over her.

* * *

The CBI challenges occurred about three months after she began cooperating. They fitted her into a gas mask and pumped it full of spores at various concentrations based on the smell. The mask was bad enough, but having spores cloud the inside ratcheted up its inherent claustrophobia. The spores smelled weird, stale and dry instead of the meaty wetness she’d come to know intimately.

They waited two days between that challenge—sampling every bit of her bodily fluids again in the meantime—and the next. The CSF tap remained the worst, feeling like fire was shooting down her right leg and a needle piercing through to her bladder, but she lay still for it.

The two days of compliance earned her a remote to control her television and music player and a dozen new songs to listen to, like she was a toddler that didn’t wet the bed. Her request for a gaming system was ignored. She now controlled what she could watch and listen to at any point in the day, and goddamn if that wasn’t a boon.

It didn’t escape her it was also a distraction from her vague plans of escape.

She had to undergo it all again after they used the CBI injection pen on her. She was starting to get fucking Stockholm syndrome to feel grateful they let her choose where she’d take the injection. The pen was startling, more for its noise than the sharp pain of multiple needles injecting CBI into her skin. She chose the inside of her left wrist. What she didn’t expect were the small numbers they tattooed next to the reddened ring or the biopsy they took where she’d been injected.

When she was led back into her cell, she drew the CBI pen and her wrist in her sketchpad.

_Hiss and snap and pain_   
_Stinging ring of infection_   
_Barely raising blood._

Then she added:

_Branded like a horse._

The following night, Jae came afterhours and retrieved Ellie himself. He showed her the sedative in the little pouch on his suit and ordered a lab tech—a man who trembled when he snapped the cuffs on Ellie’s ankles and wrists—to pull Ellie from the cell. She wasn’t sure she’d rather have Hyde or Jekyll than the restraints.

“You strangle one person, and everyone else freaks the fuck out.”

Neither of them could hear her dry comment.

Jae used his keycard and passcode: 8913 to lock her cell behind them.

As they walked, she focused on that number, imagining the path his fingers took on the keypad. 8913. Quietly, she hummed notes she’d assigned to each number, singing Jae’s name to them. “ _Ja—ae, Ja—ae.”_

He led her to the familiar path to the sampling room and locked her into the chair. Ellie watched him as he gathered his materials and dragged up a rolling stool to her side, shifting his oxygen coil over his shoulder. “Your sample was lost!” he shouted over the air in his suit. Then, to her surprise, he fitted a set of headphones over her ears. He rarely wanted to talk to her.

With his hands so close to her face, she couldn’t help but gaze at the tape that secured his rubber gloves to his suit. She’d kill for a small strip of that strong tape. A few weeks ago, she’d asked for better tape to put up her pictures, but what she’d gotten was disappointingly clear and fragile adhesive.

“What happened?” Ellie asked after he adjusted the microphone on her headset.

“My idiot assistant dropped it on the floor.”

“Good thing you left some behind.”

To her surprise, Jae offered a ghost of a smile. He wiped her arm with disinfectant. He had to fiddle with the catheter to get it in her vein; Ellie suppressed her hiss. She was familiar with the pressure of the vacutainer as he drew her samples.

Jae inverted the tubes a few times before he removed the catheter and taped a gauze pad to her elbow.

To her surprise, Jae didn’t call for some unwitting lab worker to take her back to her cell. He continued his work, spinning down her samples, pipetting, and bustling around the lab in practiced movements. He’d left her headset on for a reason, but surely it wasn’t so she could listen to the whistle of breath through his nose.

Was this fucker lonely?

“What are you doing?”

He looked up in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to make use of the headset he’d put on her. Shit, she was too starved for conversation not to. “Separating the fungal spores from your serum.”

“I have spores in my blood?”

“You have spores in almost every sample we’ve taken, including your urine.”

“But I can’t infect anyone.”

“How do you know that?!”

His alarm annoyed her, as if she were sneaking around stealing their research secrets. “Because I’ve bitten people before.”

Jae relaxed. “Well, you produce as many spores as standard infected. For some reason, your organs don’t have an exaggerated inflammatory response to those spores.”

Which didn’t quite relate to what they were talking about. “What do you mean?”

“Usually the immune system follows the fungus and destroys organs in the process. Your kidneys contain spores, yet those spores don’t mature into hyphae as they do in other patients, and not only that, there’s no inflammatory response.”

He strode across the lab and returned with several laminated pictures. Ellie squinted at the pink and purple swirls. “This is from the kidney of a stage one. These are Cordyceps hyphae. It’s overtaken everything. This is a normal kidney. And this is yours: a few spores, no hyphae.”

She couldn’t focus on the fact that they’d taken samples from her kidneys. The horror that sparked—only in part because she’d never realized they did it—was distracting. She turned her gaze away from the pictures. Then she saw the discarded suit glove and the tape attached to it on the table within arm’s reach.

Thankfully, Jae had turned away from her or the game would have been lost before she made her first move. Ellie shook herself back to the conversation. “How do runners live without working kidneys?”

“That answer is complex, but we find that those infected with severe systemic disease don’t survive long. The accepted theory is that they serve as food for stronger infected or collapse as fruiting bodies to spread spores in the air.”

“So not all infected have fungus in their kidneys.”

“Not to the existent that it causes disease enough to kill them. Those who don’t have an exuberant immune reaction to the fungus are the select population that can survive to become a stage two or three.”

“Or four?”

“That requires a large amount of adipose tissue on top of a somewhat subdued immune reaction. Hence they’re so rare.”

“I guess they _would_ have to be big fuckers.”

Jae gave a startled laugh.

“What about shamblers?”

“You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah. They smell awful. I read somewhere that the moist environment must have created them.”

“No. They exist all up and down the west coast, including desert environments.”

Right. It hadn’t rained at all in the week that Ellie wandered down California’s coast. She was fairly certain she’d encountered a shambler there, though her memories of that summer were like a fever dream.

“Why then?”

“Salinity, we think.”

Which meant they didn’t know. “So why is my immune system okay with my infection? Am I like those infected types that make it?”

The look he shot her was distrustful. Ellie couldn’t stifle her scoff. “Who the fuck am I gonna tell, Jae?”

She’d surprised him. He relaxed visibly. “Well, you don’t have hyphae for one. We assumed your fungus was different, mutated, but your spores are the same as wildtype. The difference is your Cordyceps doesn’t seem to be able to progress. Your spores don’t produce hyphae or mycelium.”

By now she knew hyphae were the mature form of Cordyceps, but the other word he used was alien. “What are mycelium?”

“Technically, they’re sclerotia, but in very simple terms, they’re the fungal plates that grow on the body. They’re produced by hyphae.”

“So in normal infection, the spores mature into hyphae that cause the head to crack open.”

“They also serve as a way to leech nutrients from the body and to produce more spores as a fruiting body for asexual reproduction. In some cases, the host dies, and the fruiting body is stationary, producing spores in the environment. In others, the host survives long enough to find a new location to either become a fruiting body or to infect by biting.”

If the driving need of the fungus was to spread itself around, that seemed like a foolproof method. “So my spores never grow up.”

“You could say that. Your relationship with your fungus is more a symbiosis, an equal partnership, whereas it’s a parasite in every other recorded case.”

“I’m not sure how equal the relationship is.”

His entire form stilled before he rotated his stool around to face her. His voice was harsh in anger, which didn’t mesh with his bulky squeaking suit. “You’re immune from reinfection. Your infection gives you all the benefits of the fungus too: bacterial resistance; increased pain threshold; resistance of brain injury, the effects of hyperthermia, and increased intracranial pressure; and increased metabolism of toxins!”

She couldn’t hide her amusement. “My mistake.”

Jae’s breath wheezed out of his nose as he turned back to his work. “We assumed your particular genetics prevent your infection from replicating.”

“So that’s not it?”

He paused, his tone indicating a clear lie. “We’ve just started the project. Of course, the fungal stage within your brain may differ from the spores that circulate in your body. You may have mutated hyphae there.”

Ellie was struck by abrupt fear at that thought. The Fireflies had wanted to get to the fungus in her brain. Didn’t matter if the Fireflies or FEDRA did it; she’d die. Like she needed another fucking reminder of how helpless she was. She’d become complacent, started to trust that these assholes wouldn’t kill her. Hell, maybe the only reason they hadn’t was because they still didn’t know why she was immune.

When she lapsed into silence, Jae didn’t push. He continued wheezing in her ear for another half hour.

Ellie gazed at a discarded glove with its tape. It was entirely chance that when Jae unlocked her right hand, a message crackled through his headset. He turned away from Ellie with Ellie’s headset in hand. He walked back across the lab to replace the headset in its case, giving Ellie time in his blind spot.

She wouldn’t waste this moment. Ellie pressed the edge of the tape to the table and pulled at the torn glove, separating them. With her heart in her throat, she set the glove back on the table and unpeeled the edge of tape to press against her skin beneath her white scrub top.

Though Ellie’s heart was pounding hard, Jae seemed none the wiser. He turned a few seconds after Ellie set her free hand back on her thigh. Ellie pressed her fingers into her muscle to disguise their shake.

That night in bed, she used the cover of her blanket to peel the tape from her skin. She pressed one corner of it against the wall, praying the adhesive was still strong enough to serve her purpose.

Ellie firmed in her decision. She had to start definitive planning now. Night shift was the best option. The doctors seemed to live in this building, and they’d been coming to her at odd hours since she’d been imprisoned.

Before sleep overtook her, she pictured how it would go down, what she’d do, which code she’d use and which way she’d turn to get out of this fucking hell. Even her imagination betrayed her; every attempt ended in failure.

She was rapidly reaching a point that dying to escape was more attractive than staying to live.

* * *

Sometimes it seemed like every night she was visited, poked, and prodded by one of the doctors, yet when she wanted it to happen, they didn’t come. She only had to stay still for a few MRIs. No poking or pissing in cups or spitting in tubes. For six more days, her nights were filled with movies, strumming guitar, and sketching in her journal.

Then on the seventh day, they denied her breakfast and marched her down to the imaging room. Ellie hated this place, but what scared her was the new equipment within the room—some kind of contraption that looked like it would fit over a giant globe. Tara and Jae and a third doctor she only saw on days of long procedures were suited up for surgery, not space. She hated her lack of control, but her ignorance was worse.

“What are you doing to me?” Ellie asked, her paranoia high.

“Just an airway sample.”

Ellie didn’t believe the lie, but she knew she would never escape them like this. If she fought, they’d sedate her, and she’d lose what little freedom she had.

Ellie watched Tara place a catheter in her arm—she barely felt a pinch—and did her best to calm her rising panic. The drugs they gave her didn’t help until she took long, steady breaths, but when they asked her to start counting, she faded.

The first thing she felt was cold. Her head hurt, and there was a pulsing line of pain along the left side of her scalp. She felt like she’d been asleep for hours. Her mouth was dry, and her throat ached. The world slowly spun on its axis.

She groaned. She tried to raise her hand to touch her head, but her arms were too heavy. She managed to crack her eyes open and stared for a long moment at the restraints on her wrists. A big monitor beside her bed flickered and trembled, spinning just a touch faster than the rest of the room. She watched a number climb and turn red, then someone stepped into her line of sight.

Tara, back in her orange suit. Her voice came over the intercom, loud enough to send a pulse of pain across her scalp.

“Ellie, calm down. You’re fine.”

She slurred, wanting to scream, to rage, to demand answers, but her words weren’t there. “Fucsss…”

“I’m sorry for the subterfuge, but we were concerned you’d be frightened if we told you the truth.”

“Fucking bitch…” She managed to rattle one restraint, and she flinched when Tara’s hand closed over her wrist.

“We took biopsies, Ellie. Simple biopsies. Nothing that will cause any harm.”

“Fuck you!” she snarled.

“We’ve perfected our brain biopsy technique at this facility. You were never in danger.”

She snarled and jerked at her restraints. Tara stepped out of her line of vision, and then oblivion dragged Ellie down. She sank back into the darkness of sedation.

The next time she woke, she was in her room, free from her catheter and restraints. Ellie startled herself with a groan, raising one hand to fumble at the source of her pain. The entire left side of her head had been shaved. There were bandages over the crown of her head above her left ear and two smaller ones on her forehead. She grunted as she peeled the large bandage away, the pain of the adhesive only adding to the aching agony beneath. The incision she encountered was smaller than she expected, only a couple inches long, closed with a neat line of sutures.

“Ellie,” came the quiet chiding voice.

She turned to stare, alert enough to hold her anger inside. Tara and Jekyll entered her cell. Tara hooked up her orange suit to the oxygen coil and motioned for Ellie to turn around. She replaced the bandage with a murmur of disapproval. Then she offered Ellie a cup of juice.

“Nothing in it; I promise.” Her voice piped in through the speakers overhead.

Ellie sipped the drink as she watched Tara move around the room. Tara offered her a smile behind her suit. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded slowly.

“Would you like steak or chicken?”

Her tongue felt thick, but she didn’t need it to raise her middle finger.

Tara’s tense smile was laughable. “Ellie, I’m aware we concealed our goals for the procedure today, and I apologize. That was my decision. I understand it’s generally accepted that brain biopsies result in severe complications, but we know a safe and effective method. I presumed your distrust of that knowledge would create a greater burden than betraying your trust the way we did.”

Tara was clearly waiting for a response. Ellie swallowed and nodded.

“Would you like to see a movie tonight?”

Another nod.

Tara’s smile was stiff, but she finally did what Ellie wanted: she left. Jekyll remained in the corner, his gaze across the lab as Ellie fumbled her way to the toilet to empty her full bladder. She used the bowl of clean water in the corner to splash her face and rub the water up on the nape of her neck. She let her tears come in a moment of self-indulgence and rubbed them away vigorously with a paper towel.

It took fifteen minutes before food emerged on its usual cardboard tray. Jekyll and the lab worker left together, locking the doors behind them. Finally, Ellie had the illusion of solitude.

She ate her dinner woodenly. For the first time since her self-starvation, she wasn’t hungry. When the movie played, she pulled out her guitar and strummed a few dark notes. Then, with careful concentration, she tuned the guitar, finding fault with the low E string.

For the first time in years, she snapped a guitar string. Ellie gazed at it with a frown. She spent the next few minutes extracting the remnants from the guitar. Then, with her heart in her throat, she slipped the guitar and broken string back in its case.

When she awoke the next morning, it took everything in her not to check to see if they’d replaced the broken string. She waited until the skeleton crew manned the lab and used the cover of the dimmed lights overnight to check. The sight of the ugly wire ends to the broken string made her shiver in relief. Then, with equal fear, she touched the tip of the tape against the wall, still tucked safely beside her cot.

She couldn’t wait any fucking longer.

* * *

From what Ellie had seen in Jackson, marriages were fairly simple things. Two people decided to get together, they asked Jackson’s preacher to lead the ceremony, and they said, ‘I do’ and exchanged rings. Dina’s brand of marriage ceremony, however, was anything but simple.

“There’s a marriage contract,” Dina explained when they first started planning.

“A contract? That sounds serious.”

“Obviously it is, doofus.” Dina glanced over her shoulder from where she was washing her face. “It’s a marriage. ‘Til death do us part, et cetera.”

“Point taken. So a marriage contract. Anything else?”

“Well, we need a chuppah.”

“Bless you?”

Dina didn’t have to turn around for Ellie to know she’d rolled her eyes. “It’s a canopy. It sort of symbolizes the life we’ve built together. Usually the bride and groom’s parents stand with them under it.”

Ellie winced as she shifted on the bed, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt her chest. She wondered if Dina or Maria would tolerate Tommy standing with her in that case. She’d figure out how to ask later. “Do I have to build it?”

“We need it standing for more than two minutes, so no.”

“Just asking,” Ellie muttered, feigning irritation. She headed off Dina’s predictable teasing about their poor hens at the farmhouse. “Okay, a canopy built by someone else and a contract. Anything else?”

“We should decide what day, but it can’t be on Saturday.”

“Not on Sabbath.”

Dina climbed into bed and offered Ellie a surprised smile.

“What? I pay attention to you sometimes.”

“Well, I’m still proud.” She leaned over to kiss Ellie lightly on the lips. “We exchange wedding bands.”

“I’m familiar with that at least.”

“There are blessings too.”

“Like blessing each other?”

“Mainly God. We drink wine after each blessing.”

“Boozy.”

“There are only seven, actually. And we stamp on a glass together to make it all official.”

“Sounds fun and slightly dangerous.”

Dina grinned. “Our marriage will last as long as the glass is broken. That and it symbolizes the losses of Jewish people through history.”

A new worry arose abruptly. “Babe, do I need to be Jewish?”

“Somehow I think your lack of heritage and religion aren’t the biggest deal.” Dina paused as she lay down, pressing her hand against Ellie’s left collarbone gently. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Just don’t jostle me.” She sighed, still feeling like flinching as she remembered the heavy steel bar on the squeeze chute falling towards her. “Lucky that stupid drop bar hit my collarbone and not my head.”

“The bruise is nasty.”

“First day this season working the cattle too,” Ellie sighed. Zora hated working the herd, and anything in the barn was tough on Doc Jons. This was one of her favorite jobs, and now she was laid up for at least a month. Nothing to do about it now but heal up.

Ellie shifted slightly, and Dina moved with her. “So what’s the biggest deal?”

“Hm? Oh.” Sometimes Ellie envied Dina’s ability to fall asleep so quickly. “The fact we’re both women. The Torah is pretty specific about homosexuality being a sin. But there were a bunch of Jewish organizations that said same-sex marriages were legit back before Outbreak. They fought the government for it, even.”

“They rebelled for the right to marry?”

“No, doofus, it was a legal thing. Just arguing in the courts.” She sighed and kissed Ellie’s skin. “But even if that precedent weren’t there, Talia used to say, ‘Don’t throw away your faith because someone once upon a time was a bigot.’ I’m the current example of my faith so if I want to marry you, then I damn well will.”

“You ever wonder what she’d think if she were here?”

Dina shifted just slightly to meet Ellie’s gaze. “Sometimes. Thinking about Joel?”

“More just in general.”

“Well, Talia would like you.”

“Why?”

“Because you make me happy.” That night Dina’s hair was a curly mass that framed her face, and the light of the oil lamp caught the edges and turned it rich brown. Ellie sighed into Dina’s kiss, happy to feel her smile.

“You know, Joel thought for, like, two years that Jesse had a crush on me.”

“Did he think you liked Jesse back?”

“I really hope not.” Ellie grinned at the memory of Joel’s certainty. Her smile softened as she thought of that last conversation. Then the grief rose softly, and Ellie had to swallow it back. “That night after the dance… I talked to him. He said you’d be lucky to have me.”

“I am lucky.”

She tilted her head to kiss the crown of Dina’s head, breathing in the floral scent of her hair. She let that heavy emotion go and murmured, “Well, obviously. You’re marrying _way_ up. Like so out of your reach it’s amazing.”

“Woah, okay,” Dina laughed.

“Babe, I am so out of your league, I—”

“That’s it! Wedding’s off. Asshole.”

“Oh, well. Too bad.” When Dina traced a finger over her ribs, Ellie flinched and yelped. “I definitely take it back. Please don’t!”

As soon as Dina confirmed Ellie was actually okay, she grinned and waggled her fingertips. “I know you don’t believe JJ, but these things are lethal.”

Ellie chuckled. “He laughs before you even touch him.”

“That’s the power of my tickle blades, El.” Dina shifted and sobered, “We should brainstorm about what we want to engrave on our rings.”

“This keeps getting more complicated.”

“There’s a book about this stuff in the library. They suggested song lyrics. That seems right up your alley.”

Ellie chuckled both at that cheesy idea and that Dina had been perusing a book about marriage. She should have suggested getting married sooner, but Dina never mentioned it. It was Robin who’d pulled Ellie aside and gently nudged her in that direction; for that, Ellie owed Robin a bottle of currant wine. Maybe the Twins would have another batch soon.

“What?”

“I was just thinking ‘I’ll be gone in a day or two’ is a really fitting engraving for a wedding band.”

Before Ellie do more than wonder if she’d just said something she shouldn’t have, Dina retorted, “It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe.”

It took her a moment to follow Dina’s tangent. “Love of mine, someday you will die.”

“That actually _is_ romantic in context. Hm… You ain’t a beauty, but hey, you’re alright.”

Ellie laughed at that one. “You’re so fucking special, but I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo.”

“We’re both weirdos to be fair.” Dina distracted herself when she pressed more than a few kisses behind Ellie’s ear. “Okay, here’s the challenge. If you had to choose lyrics in all seriousness, what would they be?”

“Damn, I don’t know… Can I think about that?”

“You’re so unromantic,” Dina mumbled. By her tone, she was on the verge of sleep again. All Ellie saw on Dina’s face was complete trust. Whether it was the trust that Ellie wouldn’t leave or that she would always come back, it was there. It was an inappropriate moment to be swept with pure thankfulness, but fuck, did she feel it. Ellie tightened her grip around Dina’s back and told herself she was going to keep making good on this promise: to protect, to love, to always come back.

* * *

Ellie had been banking on Jae coming for her alone at night because Tara—who came irregularly at best—always had a guard. The sight of masked Hyde and suited Tara unlocking her cell door during midnight shift a week after her surgery nearly made Ellie delay her plans. Then she decided, _Fuck it._

She didn’t know when the next visit would result in her death or lobotomy. Or when Tara would follow through with her threat to drag Dina and JJ into this fucking hell. She’d made a promise to her wife, and she was going to fulfill it or die trying.

It was time to use her recklessness to her advantage.

Lying on her side in her cot, Ellie turned her music to the highest setting—a dark part of her amused the song was ‘Jerk Off’—before the door opened. Tara waved her hand at Ellie, but Ellie ignored her.

Tara turned her back to hook her suit into the coiled air hose. As Casey locked the door, Ellie approached in Tara’s blind spot to secure her smuggled tape onto the suit’s back, closing the pressure valve. Tara flinched and turned, but the oxygen line was secured to her suit already. Ellie darted back to wrap the broken guitar string across her cloth-covered palms.

Tara’s suit immediately overinflated, her arms rising parallel to her shoulders, but Hyde’s attention was focused on the volume issue. Tara’s shout couldn’t be heard over the blaring song. As Hyde reached for the audio control panel on the opposite wall, Ellie climbed on the bed and sprang off it to yank the string across Hyde’s neck. He jerked away from her, but she used every effort to pull the string taut. Hyde slammed into Tara, who bounced off the door to fall on her back like a cutout of an old tire mascot.

Hyde thumped Ellie into the wall, taking her breath, but she didn’t let go. She dragged the guitar string back and forth in hard sawing motions. He gagged, then his trachea opened in a rumbling wheeze. The next pass opened his vessels with hard squirts of blood. She sawed until she scraped bone. He sank to his knees and collapsed on his belly, his blood flooding the room as the song crescendoed to the shriek of, “ _Di—e bitch_!”

Tara could do nothing but grimace as Ellie snatched her ID card and Hyde’s. Ellie fumbled at the locked door, swiping Hyde’s card. Her fingers punched the pin without thought. She’d been imagining it so often that it was second nature now.

She darted out of the cell, part of her certain she’d fall dead at the threshold. She felt naked and terrified without her guards, her escorts. And fuck them for that.

Tara’s suit popped with a shocking shriek of noise over the music. From outside the cell, Ellie swiped the card, and entered the code, but Tara—one ear bleeding—was already out of the remains of her suit. She lunged across the divide before the door closed. She was off-balance and unarmed, but Ellie had no weapon either.

Ellie dodged Tara’s lunge. She turned towards the lab’s vent hood, already going for her contingency plan. Tara seemed dizzy, falling to her right. The vent hood was unlocked with a simple swipe of one of the cards, and within it, Ellie seized up the CBI injection pen. When Tara slammed into her back, Ellie jerked around, grabbed her around the shoulders, and pressed the pen to her neck.

Both of the suited techs advancing on them stopped. So did Tara.

“Throw me your cards. Do it!”

Fuck! They couldn’t hear her. Ellie held up the cards in her hand and repeated her command. As one lab tech fumbled at their waist to do as Ellie commanded, Tara hit Ellie’s hand, sending one card skidding away.

Ellie slammed the pen harder into Tara’s neck, provoking a horrified gag, and that prompted not compliance but a rush from the other suited tech. In the frozen moment of the man’s rush, Ellie recognized Jae. She depressed the plunger on the CBI injection pen with a flinch. It hissed and popped as it discharged against Tara’s neck, and within a second of the realization that she’d been infected, Tara vomited all over Jae’s clear face shield.

If Ellie had seen it in a movie, she would have laughed at the slap-stick nature of it, especially when Jae slipped on the vomit and hit the vent hood with force. Ellie dodged away, reaching out to yank off his card. Even with it, this was not a good place to be right now.

Tara was still gagging on the floor, and the other lab tech had scrambled to hide in the corner. Jae slipped and struggled to get to his feet.

Ellie abandoned her plan to lock them in the lab and sprinted for the exit, seizing an air coil and stretching it as she ran. She released it, and there was a hard snap as it hit someone behind her.

She’d swiped Tara’s card. It took her precious seconds to remember Tara’s pin. She’d seen it once and…

“Fuck,” she gasped as the door opened with a hiss.

Ellie sprinted past the moaning infected in their cells, praying to hit the next hallway before Jae caught up with her or someone else came in. Then an alarm blared. The hallway was illuminated with flashing red lights and deep, pulsing beeps that made her headache suddenly worth noting.

She slammed into the next door, swiped the card, and entered the pin, but it wouldn’t open. Ellie tried again with Jae’s card—focusing to bring up his code—and when the electronic lock flashed red, she grabbed the handle and shook the door with a scream of rage.

She saw Jae’s distorted shadow before she heard him. He’d come without a cord hookup, but there was still enough pressure in his suit that his movements were clumsily. His suit interfered with his ability to move and fight, but he was easily twice her size.

With her back to the door, Ellie moved sideways. Jae lunged at her and missed. She darted across the hall and realized there was nowhere to go but into the infection cells.

Fuck it.

Ellie swiped at the cell behind her, and to her surprise, it opened. The clicker inside was one of the few infected that had lived here as long as Ellie. She dodged around it. She wasn’t sure if it could hear her given the deafening alarm, and it didn’t seem to train on her.

All this fucking technology, and the clicker was attached to the floor by a chain ending with a locked carabiner, no better than the Rattlers’ system. She waited for it to give her slack to unlock the carabiner, open it, and slip it off the ring in the floor. As soon as it was free, the clicker charged from its cell.

The clicker knocked Jae to the ground and tore into him, starting with his hands. Jae’s scream was audible above the alarm. It took less than a minute before he stopped moving. His hands were stumps, gushing blood visibly.

What the fuck did she do now?

She didn’t have a weapon, and this infected trick wasn’t going to work twice, not while a clicker roamed the hallway. She could shut herself in the cell, but that put her no closer to the outside.

She’d made it all of two rooms, probably fifty fucking yards, and she was fucked.

Ellie sank down into a squat and pressed a hand to her chest as she realized it really was do or die. She’d rather that clicker rip her throat out than go back into her cell. And if Ellie was dead, JJ and Dina would be safe from FEDRA. She wiped tears and sweat from her face and shook her head as she gathered herself to rise.

The door to the outer hallway swished open, and an Enforcer charged into the hall. Ellie moved on instinct, darting out behind him. As he put his boot through the clicker’s skull, she swiped his CEW, raised it, and fired.

The Enforcer—Casey, Jekyll—collapsed, his entire body flexed. He released a groan she barely heard over the blaring alarm. Ellie grabbed his card, hit the CEW again, dropped it when she realized the wire wouldn’t reach the door, and darted for the exit.

His code… His code was 5289. As the door swished open, she jerked around, but Casey only raised one hand, his palm up. “Ellie!”

She paused on the other side.

“My locker is 8, through the last door on the right of the main hall. There’s a loaded pistol in it.”

She hesitated.

“Follow the hall down to the guard station. Take another right to get outside past another guard station. The vehicle exit in the outer gates will be to your right. The guard there will have a key for the gate.” His head jerked back down the hallway. “Go!”

She locked him inside.

The only living things in the vivisection corridor were infected. The hallway beyond was disturbingly quiet. She noticed with a flush of fear that a few people in suits were apparently locked within their labs, but they were intent on their own tasks.

She had no idea what she was going to walk into next.

Casey’s card worked when she swiped it across the unmarked door at the end of the hall. A series of several doors led her into a small change room. It was so fucking weird to be in a room she didn’t recognize.

“Fifty-two eighty-nine,” she repeated to herself as she swiped the card across locker eight. The light flashed green, and the lock released audibly.

She scrambled for Casey’s gun. His clothes were too fucking big to help. She gave herself one terrified look: all white, aside from the blood that turned her shoes and sleeves the color of rust.

There were ten rounds in his pistol; she chambered one as she walked through the door.

The hallway was abandoned. She picked up speed at the sight of the uniformed guard at the end. The man had his back turned, talking to someone on the phone. At the last moment, he jerked around. He gaped at her as she put a bullet through his skull.

The strange frame at the guard station gave a chirp of protest as she ran through it. The door didn’t require a code or swipe to exit. The next guard station was manned, but despite the sound of her gunshot, both men were completely unprepared. She killed them without wasting a shot.

She was outside. Ellie fought the tilt of vertigo at the strangeness of being in a place without visible walls. The night air was cold and damp with fog, and her breath condensed as she exhaled.

“Right,” Ellie murmured, shaking her head. She turned in the direction Casey suggested. She saw a few people moving in the darkness. There was a spiked perimeter fence set far back from the building. “Right,” she whispered, moving along the shadow of the building.

She caught her breath as she crouched beside the edge of the building. Shouts behind her made her flinch, but the words were far away. It had to be about her escape. Did they have radios? The guard at the vehicle exit—she could see it now, the gate Casey recommended—would know she was coming. She couldn’t wait for more of these assholes to cover the exit.

She sprinted hard across the cracked concrete and came upon not one but two guards who were in heavy discussion. One of them saw her and turned in surprise. She shot them both. It took three rounds. She fumbled for the keys and gasped in relief when she grabbed a small keyring in one of the guard’s pockets.

It took less than ten seconds to get the lock off the gate. She shoved it back and locked it again in the face of the guards now running towards her, shouting in their alarm. Ellie put her last few rounds in the guards charging her, dropping them both. Keys in hand, Ellie turned into the QZ and had no idea where the fuck to go.

Anywhere but here.

She sprinted across the street and down a dark alley, cutting a hard right, then left, zigzagging away from the hospital. She didn’t know how far she’d gone before she had to stop and rest, gulping air as she leaned against a building. Somewhere nearby, an explosion shook buildings and set distant dogs to barking. Ellie leaned her head back against the building and hoped some asshole Firefly was making enough racket to give her cover.

In all this time, she’d considered how to escape the facility but put no thought into how to get out of the fucking city. She had no ammunition, no energy, and no idea where she was. She still wore her white scrubs, and her slippers had long since torn against the rough ground. Even if her head weren’t half shaved and she didn’t have stitches in her scalp, she couldn’t pass as a QZ citizen.

She was free. And she was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little urked by how little info there is about positive pressure suits. Pretty sure Ellie's escape stretches reality, but creative license? If you want more info about the NEIDL, a real biosecurity lab, check out MWV Episode 68 (Threading the NEIDL) on youtube.


	6. An emptiness inside

When Tommy knocked at her kitchen door, Dina’s heart plummeted in a queasy mix of hope and terror. He offered a tense grimace of a smile. “Can you spare a few minutes?”

Dina wiped her hands dry on the dishtowel. She glanced at James, who reflected her concern.

“Can you…?”

“I’ll put JJ to bed. But why don’t you go give him a kiss?”

Dina took the steps two at a time. Spot lay on his belly facing Ellie’s craft room; his fluffy tail wagged when he saw her. It wasn’t unexpected that JJ would be playing in there. He’d worn out Ellie’s tape, which had caused a meltdown until James was able to fix the torn tape and restore the recording. James joked that Dina could fix the tape player when it broke, but he was happy to be on tape restoration duty.

Even now, JJ hummed along to Ellie’s recording of ‘Take on Me’.

“Hey, bud.”

He smiled up at her. Dina sat down beside him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She stroked her fingers through his shaggy mop, which was long enough pull back into a ponytail. “I’m going to go visit with Tommy and Maria. Gramps is going to put you to bed if I don’t get back in time. Be good.”

“Will you tell me when you get home?”

It was a good compromise to the extreme attachment he’d maintained with Dina since Ellie’s disappearance. She kissed him again and squeezed him tight. “I promise.”

“Dina?”

Dina followed the sound of the call across the hallway. Robin was in bed, her face drawn in pain. Her back was acting up again. Dina leaned down to kiss Robin’s forehead. “I’m going to go by Maria’s.”

Robin’s grip around her wrist tightened. “News?”

“Not sure. I’ll tell you when I get back.”

Tommy had spurned a cane for so long it was strange to see him use one, but Jackson had just started to hit the muddy stage of spring. The melting snow always mixed into a sludgy mess that made it hard for Tommy to get around. They were sure to get a few more snows this month, hardening up the ground for easier transport, but for today, he deigned the support.

It took them a few quiet minutes to navigate the streets to Maria’s house. There, Tommy settled into the porch swing with a grunt. It took him nearly a minute to peel off his boots. Dina toed hers off and waited at the door for him to rock to his feet and limp into the house.

Maria had a fire going in her living room. She offered a tired smile and motioned for Dina to take a seat.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No. Thank you, Maria.”

Tommy collapsed onto the couch next to Maria. For once, he didn’t pull out his map. “So I have some news.”

Dread and hope warred within her. “Tell me.”

Tommy nodded. “Talked to a trader this afternoon. I’ve been putting word out, asking about FEDRA bounties just in case. And the woman coming through has a buddy who freelances those bounties, hangs with Enforcers.”

“Enforcers?”

“FEDRA bounty hunters, military folk. You don’t want to mess with them; I fought a couple in my day as a Firefly. Well, there’s a rumor about a big bounty for information about a red-headed woman. The bounty’s a few years old.”

Dina looked between Maria and Tommy in disbelief. “Just that?”

He hesitated, glanced at Dina, and unfolded a paper he pulled from his pocket. “The woman they want has a tattoo of ferns on her right forearm. This is the picture.”

“Oh my God…”

It was undoubtedly Ellie on the paper, far younger than Dina had ever known her. She was scowling, her right brow freshly split and her eye and lip swollen and bruised. Dina touched the picture, marveling at this Ellie she’d never known.

Ellie had been marked from the fucking start, and they’d had no idea. Not only had FEDRA connected this old identity—clearly from Boston QZ—to who she was now, they’d managed to trace her to Jackson.

“There’s only one reason why they’d want her, right?”

Someone in Jackson had to know about Ellie’s immunity. It was the simplest explanation. Immediately, Dina considered the other two within this room—and herself—and she excluded them all just as quickly. No matter their histories, they were all loyal to Ellie. The only other person she had suspicion knew about Ellie’s immunity was Cat. Cat couldn’t have… But if she knew…

“I agree,” Tommy replied quietly.

“Does Jons know?”

“No,” Dina replied distractedly. “Cat?”

Tommy and Maria exchanged looks, but they didn’t have to voice their doubt.

Dina’s gaze traveled over the folded bounty sheet. It was titled _WANTED: ALIVE._ _Reward for information or retrieval._ The bottom carried FEDRA’s seal. A small paragraph below Ellie’s picture stated, _Subject is in mid-twenties, has red hair and a fern tattoo on right forearm._ The paper had a ragged edge; it was torn diagonally across the bottom. She flipped it over, but the back was blank.

“Where was this from?”

“The trader was from out west. She said there’re two QZs in California. San Diego and San Francisco. The bounty could come from any FEDRA QZ though. Denver is still established, but Chicago collapsed a few years ago.”

“Anything else?”

“Not yet. But I’ve got word out. Dina, we’ll find her.”

“I wonder what she did.”

“We know why—”

Dina indicated Ellie’s picture on the wanted poster. “I meant how she got hurt. She used to say she was the worst ever FEDRA soldier in the making, but she wouldn’t tell me how she got that scar.”

Tommy seemed to be taken aback by her tangent, but Maria sat beside Dina and wrapped an arm around her. Dina pressed her face into her hands and gulped back an abrupt sob. All she seemed to be doing lately was crying.

“Sorry,” she said, wiping her face.

“It’s okay to grieve.”

 _Grieve what?_ she wanted to ask.

Maria rubbed her back gently, but she could offer no more comfort than that. Dina was going to have to put on a brave face and go home to offer some explanation to Robin and James, who would be waiting to hear what Tommy had to say. How had Ellie lived so long with this lie?

* * *

When Dina picked up JJ from daycare the next day, she spent long moments gazing up at the mural on the outer wall. Cat had done a great deal of it, but she’d roped Ellie into helping. The bucking mustang was Ellie’s most iconic touch in the entire motif. Dina had been comfortable enough knowing Ellie and Cat were working in close quarters, but she’d still disliked the night Cat took Ellie out for a celebratory drink at the Tipsy Bison.

She’d butted in, arriving after JJ went to bed. If Ellie knew Dina’s jealousy was part of her motivation, she’d still been nothing but happy to see her. Happy, tipsy, and quick to laugh at Tommy’s jokes and Cat’s teasing. Ellie had even danced with Dina in the limited space by the bar. Yet when they’d returned home, she wouldn’t get in bed until she toured the downstairs and locked JJ’s bedroom window.

As Dina walked JJ home, listening vaguely to his chatter about school that day, she could picture Cat’s hand stroking across Ellie’s tattoo when she’d first walked into the bar. Ellie had been looking at Dina when it happened, and she’d reacted with no self-consciousness as she pulled away from Cat’s touch and climbed to her feet to greet her.

Surely Cat wouldn’t have betrayed Ellie, but Dina had to confirm that truth.

Distractedly, Dina worked with JJ on his homework: letters and a few counting problems, doing everything in her power to give her son her full attention. Then, in the time he had to play before dinner, Dina walked a few blocks over to the two-story house on the other side of the graveyard.

She paused to study Joel’s grave. She’d been too preoccupied to change the flowers in over a month. Ellie had been religious about visiting weekly.

“Dina! What a surprise.” Susan opened the door with a smile, ever polite. Dina kicked off her shoes as she followed her inside, smiling nervously when Cat trotted down the stairs.

“Hey, stranger.”

Cat invited Dina upstairs. Though Dina felt awkward, she followed Cat into her bedroom. Terry, Cat’s younger brother, rolled his eyes when she shooed him out. Dina’s breath caught at the sight of one of Ellie’s sketches framed on the wall. It was of Cat and her family, all of them smiling happily. Based on the style, it was new.

“What brings you by?”

“Sorry it took me so long.” Dina handed the red paperback over. Cat raised a brow as she studied the lewd cover.

“This looks great.”

“Chapter thirteen is my favorite.” The sex in that chapter was ridiculously hot because the characters finally added emotional intimacy to their physical relationship.

“Here.” Cat pulled a few paperbacks from her bookshelf. “Well, actually, what are you feeling? Well written but sad or happily ever after and cheesy?”

“Happily ever after.”

Abruptly Cat’s mouth pulled, and she looked away as she fought her tears. Dina sighed as her own tears threatened. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t.” She held out the book. “I miss her, and I know it’s nothing on what you must be feeling.”

“Cat, do you know anything about why she might have disappeared?”

Cat’s brow furrowed even as she wiped away an errant tear. She motioned for Dina to sit at her desk, and she settled on her bed. “No. I can’t think of anyone in Jackson who would ever want to hurt her. Seth basically adopted her, and he used to be the worst bigot in this place. He’s even nice to me now. It’s creepy.”

“I know, right?” Dina attempted to smile. Cat’s expression shifted into melancholy as she murmured, “Everyone knows she’d never leave you.”

Someplace dark inside, the place that had Talia’s voice, added the word ‘again’ to Cat’s statement.

“What about outside Jackson?”

“I wouldn’t know. I was born here.”

“Did Ellie tell you anything about why she burned her arm?”

That gave Cat pause. Her gaze sharpened. “I didn’t even know _she_ burned it.”

She and Dina squared off quietly. Dina was too busy pondering how to approach such a carefully guarded secret to consider Cat’s rising irritation. “I know why. So if you know, I’d appreciate it if you said.”

“I told you, Dina. She never trusted me, not like she trusts you. Does it have something to do with her disappearing?”

“The secret might. I’m trying to figure out if anyone else in Jackson knows.”

That made color rise on Cat’s cheeks, and her jaw firmed. “Is that what you think? She didn’t choose me, but I still care for her. Even if I did know, I would never betray her.”

“I don’t… Cat, I’m trying to cover all leads. I just had to know.”

“Now you do. I’d appreciate it if you left.”

With Cat standing by her open bedroom door, there was nothing to do but comply.

“I’ll, uh, drop it by when I finish,” Dina murmured awkwardly. Cat closed the door behind her.

Dina had bungled that, but she had no regrets. She was still no closer to figuring out who else could possibly know about Ellie’s immunity. If it was someone within Jackson, how could she determine that? That was excluding the possibility that a traveling trader might recognize Ellie from her many dark adventures.

What had happened in those months she’d traveled with Joel from Boston? What the fuck had happened in Santa Barbara?

* * *

Though Dina had been ready to have Ellie fully immersed in her life again only weeks after Ellie returned to Jackson, Ellie made her wait nearly a year. What an asshole. It was a funny thing to know and love someone as intimately as she did Ellie and backtrack to date her.

They’d gone from best friends to girlfriends overnight so this was a new situation for them. Dina could appreciate their ‘casual’ dating for that, even if she wanted more. Like Ellie in her bed again, all of Ellie’s shit crammed in her bookshelves, and Ellie’s guitar propped up against their nightstand. Dina respected Ellie’s boundaries; she took things as slow as Ellie dictated.

She was selfishly pleased that Jackson immediately swept their relationship up in town-wide gossip. She was so used to being caught up with Ellie and Cat’s dating status by hushed talk that hearing her own name associated with Ellie gave her queer satisfaction…even if sometimes she heard whispers that Dina was the reason for their distance.

It hadn’t been distance though. Looking back on it, Dina thought she and Ellie talked more in those first few months than the entirety of their relationship prior. Whenever they met, Dina always asked, “How are you?”

Dina was so used to their relationship being shaped by Ellie’s silent withdrawals that Ellie’s honesty surprised her even after several months. Over dinner at the Tipsy Bison one evening, Ellie even admitted, “Had another flashback. I dropped a plate on the floor, and Maria had to talk me down.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Been dreading having another. I built it up, so it’s kind of nice to have it over and done with.”

“When was the last one?”

“The first week back in Jackson.” Ellie glanced up at Seth as he dropped their food in front of them. When he set down two beers with a, “On the house,” Ellie even smiled. She nodded at her mug after Seth walked away, but Dina shook her head.

After a minute to work on their food, Ellie continued, “Doc Jons kind of talked me through this reframing thing. It’s basically breaking down situations that cause anxiety. It’s hard, but it helps.”

“Like what?”

Ellie set down her fork, her gaze on her plate for a long moment. Then she made eye contact. “Like, uh, chopping wood. I’d be afraid I’d have a flashback and hurt you or JJ since I had the axe. Doc Jons helped me think about it realistically.”

“Can you tell me how? So I can help you if I need to?”

“Uh… Okay. The first thing is I can usually feel when I’m going to have a flashback, so I’d just avoid chopping wood. Or if it comes on while I’m doing it, I’d just stop before it happens. But if I do have a flashback with an axe, you’d know not to come close until I dropped it. And JJ was never even outside when the axe was out so that was never a real fear. I probably would just drop the axe and sit down. So now that I’ve thought that out, I can split firewood without freaking out.”

“Ellie…” Dina reached out for Ellie’s hand, fighting equal parts guilt and sorrow. She had no idea that would be a trigger. She’d assumed Ellie’s reluctance was procrastination; at their farmhouse, Dina had done more than her fair share of nagging about Ellie’s chore. She’d even enjoyed watching Ellie do it—her strength and grace and the sweat that soaked her back in the process. Ellie had kept her terror bottled up but still tromped outside to set to the firewood when Dina asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That’s something I have to work on too.” She offered Dina a rueful smile and nodded to her food. “Want your collards?”

They finished eating, comfortable in their silence. Ellie dropped her untouched mug of beer off with Tommy at the bar, who patted her shoulder and offered a few words in exchange. Dina ignored his tentative wave. The last time she’d spoken to Tommy, she’d told him to go fuck himself, and she still stood behind that statement. What he’d done that day was unforgivable.

Without a word, they turned towards Dina’s house. Dina encouraged Ellie to wrap an arm over her shoulders. They jostled each other as they walked, but it was so good to be this close.

“Come upstairs?” Dina asked at the front door.

“Can we talk for a little bit?”

It wasn’t too cold out, though Dina would rather the soft cushions of the couch versus the hard wood of the porch swing. The immature horny part of her knew that kisses were more likely on the porch instead of inside where James or Robin could walk downstairs. Ellie would have to get over that when she moved in.

“I need to tell you something, but I don’t know how.”

Not a kissing night by Ellie’s tone. Dina took her hand. “Just say it, babe.”

“I… On our farmhouse… I wasn’t going to make it much longer.”

Dina shook her head, at a loss for what Ellie meant.

“I was thinking about killing myself.”

A cold flush swept from the crown of her head to her toes. “Ellie!”

“I didn’t want to tell you, but… Doc Jons said I should be honest about how I felt.” Ellie met her gaze for only a moment. “I was thinking about how. To make it easiest on you, so you could get back to Jackson.”

“Easiest on me?” Dina pulled back to stare at this woman like she’d never seen her before. Ellie winced and lowered her gaze to her hands, her thumb smoothing gently over the stumps on her left hand.

“I hadn’t done anything but think about it, but I would have started planning if I hadn’t left for Santa Barbara. I’m not saying I was right or that I left for you. I just… Part of me thought it would be better to leave that way instead. I never wanted you to remember me the way I…” She swallowed thickly. “The way I remember Joel.”

“How are—Are you—Ellie…”

“I’m not thinking that way now.”

“You have to fucking tell me these things.” Dina caught Ellie’s face between her hands and waited for Ellie to meet her gaze. Ellie’s pupils were wide in the dark, making her eyes almost unreadable, but the softness of her expression suggested acceptance.

“I promise.”

She leaned close to rest their foreheads together. Dina again asked, “Come upstairs. Sleep with me.”

“I don’t think…”

Sex had been a problematic thing for them, but given their first time was the same day as Joel’s death, it wasn’t surprising. Ellie took that more personally than Dina. Sex was pointless unless Ellie wanted it too, and there were a lot more ways of being intimate together than fucking. If Dina was so strapped for an orgasm, she could just masturbate. She’d even said it once, prompting Ellie to leave the farmhouse at dusk and not return for hours.

The fact Ellie was hesitant to sleep in her bed out of fear of sex was a wound, even if she knew it shouldn’t be.

“I just want to sleep next to you, Ellie.”

“Sorry.”

“Please don’t be sorry.” Dina kissed her gently. “I never want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I do want it, I just…can’t.”

“Then we’ll work on it together whenever you’re ready. Just like anything else.”

In the end, Ellie followed her upstairs. Dina remembered snuggling into Ellie’s body, murmuring as Ellie wrapped an arm around her side and pulled Dina’s hips into the fold of her own. Ellie had kissed Dina’s shoulder gently, and it had been so fucking good just to sleep in her arms again.

* * *

She dreamed of Ellie walking into the front door like always, her smile slow and happy. When Dina woke, her grief crashed into her like a flood, ripping her from her foundations and engulfing her. There was nothing she could do but let it sweep her up and hope to emerge from the other side.

She couldn’t cry, not crushed the way she was. Her internal prayer was bare pleading. _Please give her back to me, please, please, please…_

She didn’t know how long it took for her grief to release her, but when her alarm blared hours later, she was bleary and exhausted, and sorrow still had its hooks in her. She got herself up enough to dress and feed JJ, but James and Robin exchanged worried glances and told Dina they’d go by her work after dropping JJ off at school to let them know she was sick.

The house was quiet. Robin had offered to stay, but Dina needed the solitude. It was how she dealt with grief. She’d felt this ebb and flow before: with her mother and Talia and for weeks after Seattle for Jesse, Ellie, and Tommy. Each time, she’d continued on because not doing so would be death.

The week after their mother died, Talia had left her for hours at a time while she planned their ‘escape’, which ended up being endless and aimless retreat that was driven by Talia’s increasing paranoia. Then when Talia was killed a few years later, Dina had buried her and continued walking up 191 until a Jackson patrol stumbled upon her and took her back with them.

In some ways, she benefited from Talia’s death. Dina was separated enough from her loss to see that. With her increasing paranoia, Talia would never have trusted the patrol pair, let alone Jackson. They would have hidden from the men, skirted the town, and continued on for the sake of it, as if Talia’s relentless paranoia would release them if they just made it to the next settlement.

Dina would never have known Ellie or Jesse or Robin or James. She wouldn’t have JJ, the brightest spot of joy in her life. The odds were that if she hadn’t found Jackson, she would be dead by now—from bandits, starvation, or maybe eventually by her own blade.

Dina had always found a way to keep going until she could find happiness in the life she led, but having no closure about Ellie’s disappearance had her hovering over a precipice, unable to climb to safety or fall into the pit. She would take ignorance over the certainty of Ellie’s death, but this uncertainty was still agony. She wasn’t sure she could make the choice to leave JJ to rescue Ellie either, but she had to know if it was an option.

“What would you want, El?”

She could guess. A woman who planned her hypothetical suicide to be convenient for her lover wouldn’t want rescue if it endangered Dina. She’d want Dina and JJ safe and happy. Dina just wasn’t sure she could live with herself if she ignored an opportunity to bring Ellie back.

She’d understood on one level Ellie’s need to kill Joel’s murderers, but even knowing now that Joel had died because he saved Ellie, how far that desire pushed Ellie escaped Dina’s comprehension. She’d been torn apart by it and still kept going. How could Ellie feel the same thing about killing Abby that Dina felt about bringing Ellie home?

From planning a suicide to be convenient to walking out without any preparation. So often Ellie defied her understanding.

Dina faded into sleep imaging Ellie asleep beside her. She awoke bleary but steadier when Spot sat up in bed with abrupt attention and clattered downstairs. A moment later, someone knocked on the door. She pulled on a warm robe and answered the door, smiling to see Greg on her porch.

“Hey, come in.”

Despite Spot’s aggressive barks, he immediately pranced around Greg’s legs with his tail wagging and his mouth open in a wide grin. Greg stepped inside, holding up a tin of food. “Courtesy of my dad. He heard you weren’t feeling well, and as you should know, food cures all ails.”

“Oh, thanks… Just had trouble sleeping last night. Sorry I’m not dressed.”

“It’s your home.”

As soon as Greg set the food aside, he was down on the floor with Spot. Dina left him baby-talking the puppy as she went upstairs to change. Only partly for politeness’s sake, Dina worked on the lunch Seth had provided from his kitchen. Say what they would about the crotchety old man, he could cook a mean brisket. Though her appetite wasn’t high, the food tasted good enough to make a proper meal out of it.

“How’re you holding up?” Greg asked quietly.

“Some days are better than others. Today isn’t a good one.”

He smoothed his hands over his cropped hair. “I’m sorry. I should have stayed with her.”

“Greg, this isn’t your fault.”

He stared down at his hands for a pregnant moment. “I know her secret.”

That made her still in a cold flush of shock. He glanced at her under his brows. “A runner pulled her mask off when we were clearing out a den last summer. She said only you, Tommy, and Maria know. I thought it was better just to pretend I’d never seen, but… That’s why they took her, right?”

Dina’s breath came back. “Did you tell anyone?”

“No. I swear. Didn’t mention it to her again either. I’ve just pretended it never happened.”

She didn’t read a lie in his words. “FEDRA put a bounty out for her. We can’t think of any other reason for it.”

“Where?”

“We don’t know yet. Infection testing is probably secret so getting any information is… It’s all vague rumors. If FEDRA did take her, we don’t even know which QZ.”

“If you find out where, I’ll go,” he said earnestly. “My family came from SFQZ so I know how to get around. I can go and ask around and come back with information.”

“You clear this with Maria?”

“She was the one asking for volunteers.”

Dina stared at him, wondering why Maria would ask Jackson but never tell her. Then her gut dropped in the realization that… “No one else volunteered, did they?”

Greg’s wince was answer enough. “I figured I’d wait for the last snowfall and set out—”

“She would have ridden out for anyone else!”

“Everyone knows that, Dina. We know what she’s done for Jackson, but...”

“But fucking what?”

“Everyone else has a family they’d be leaving behind too. With no clear direction to point their compass.”

Dina pushed her plate aside. A community was only helpful when you were in it, huh? Fuck Jackson. Fuck her neighbors. Fuck everyone who came by to offer their fucking condolences because words were easy.

She had to remind herself that the man sitting across from her was the only one willing to leave Jackson for Ellie. He didn’t deserve her anger. She swallowed her bitterness and pulled on as much of a smile as she could manage. “How long ago did you come from the QZ?”

He winced. “About fifteen years. It can’t have changed that much. You didn’t come from a QZ, did you?”

“No. What was it like? Ellie grew up in Boston, but you know how descriptive she is.”

They shared a sad smile. His gaze flickered away, and Dina pushed her drink aside. “That bad, huh?”

“There’s a reason we left. At least I didn’t grow up in military prep like Ellie.” Then he grinned. “Can you imagine her taking orders? ‘Yes, sir. Fuck you, sir. Kiss my ass, sir.’”

Dina was startled by her laugh. She reached out to pat his wrist, but then she squeezed firmly. “Greg? Thanks.”

* * *

When Dina awoke with JJ in her bed again, she knew she needed to find a way to focus on her son. She brushed his hair back and smiled down at him sadly. He needed a haircut. That tended to fall into the realm of Ellie tasks—like riding and bath time and breakfast and going to bed—but he needed a new routine. Dina realized she’d been, if not inadequate, simply afraid to over-write all the little rituals that JJ and Ellie shared.

She woke him a few hours later, smiling as he stretched and grunted.

“I so rarely wake up before you, bud.”

His smile was still so baby-sweet. Dina bent over to kiss his temple, and he wrapped an arm around her neck. “What do you say to a day just for us?”

He sat up, wiping at his eyes, and he smiled. “Can we go riding?”

“I think that’s overdue, big guy. Come on downstairs for breakfast.”

After breakfast, Dina hesitated in her closet before donning one of Ellie’s button-downs, raising it to her nose to take a long breath. There was still the faintest hint of Ellie’s citrus scent, and it made her sigh.

JJ sat happily for his haircut. Spot, who followed JJ around like the loyal dog he was, sparked their laughter as he pounced on the curls of hair they left on the porch. He earned a light smack with the broom for attacking it as Dina attempted to clean up. That earned a laugh from JJ too. The damn cat wandered by close enough for JJ to scratch her, but she hissed as soon as Dina approached. JJ was well-versed in this joke so that made him laugh too.

At the barn, Dina checked out their pony and horse. Rainbow preened as JJ tended to her, and Japan was more than happy to accept a saddle. They rode north through Jackson, JJ keeping pace on Rainbow with Japan’s slow walk. Spot followed a safe distance from the horses’ hooves.

“Can we go outside Jackson?”

“Not today. But definitely when it warms up.”

“Why not now?”

“Infected are worse in the cold.”

“Is that why Mom was gone so much?”

“Yeah. She was protecting Jackson.” She smiled down at JJ and drew Japan to a stop along the snowy fields within Jackson’s perimeter. The sun had burned off quite a bit of snow in the last week, enough to level the ground and show some grass beneath. She nodded. “Have at it.”

JJ grinned, shifted in the saddle, and gave Rainbow a squeeze with his thighs. The pony practically pranced as she trotted around the field. Japan was more interested in pawing away snow to get to any remaining grass.

It was warm enough for them to remove their coats as they ate a picnic lunch. JJ was all smiles, especially after he bested in her a short game of tag. When Dina removed a thermos from her backpack and poured the contents into a cup, his eyes went wide in disbelief. She nearly hadn’t believed it herself. Chocolate was rarely brought to Jackson by traders because it only grew in select climates. Luckily, the traders coming through had enough for Dina to purchase for this treat.

JJ sipped the hot chocolate, smacking his lips, his eyes still wide. Then, all at once, his smile faded.

“Is Mom coming back?”

She should have expected that. Ellie had introduced him to hot chocolate years ago, trading a pair of beloved shoes for a chocolate bar. As she put together the sweet drink for JJ, she’d talked about Joel once choosing to buy chocolate instead of coffee so she could try this drink. It was one of the first times she’d openly talked of Joel to JJ.

Dina hadn’t prepared an answer for her son’s question. She took a long breath and decided that there was only so much sugar-coating she could do before it became another lie. Instead, she gave him the bare truth.

“I don’t know.”

He nodded, his expression collapsing in tears. Dina reached out and pulled him against her side, leaning over to kiss the crown of his head. “You know what though? She’s doing everything she can so she can come back home. Mom is amazing like that.”

“I miss her.”

Dina swallowed her tears. “I do too, baby. So much.”

“Is she going to be sad when she comes back?”

Everyone in the house—hell, everyone in Jackson—knew about Ellie’s mental health struggles. Her dark, quiet moods were a true and present thing. Dina had talked to JJ a little about it but probably not enough. “Maybe. But we’ll do what we can to help her be happy.”

He sank back into her arms for another hug. Before Ellie’s disappearance, he would only snuggle when he was sick. Now he held on like he was afraid Dina would slip away too.

She hadn’t been talking about Ellie enough. She’d let her uncertainty over Ellie’s fate get in the way of communicating about such a central person in JJ’s life. She’d never not talked to him about Jesse or even Joel, but she hadn’t encouraged communication about Ellie.

“I wish my blood was special.”

“Why, baby?”

“So they would’ve taken me instead.”

“Taken?” Dina repeated dully, fear filling her. Had she said something she hadn’t intended to? Had he overheard her talking to Robin? “What do you mean, baby?”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze, shifting uncomfortably as if he were in trouble. “Mr. Jim said so.”

“When did you see Jim?” Dina asked, ratcheting her control to hide her rising anger. JJ was wiggling uncomfortably now, his head ducked.

“I heard him talking with Ms. Libby.” Then his face fell, and his voice broke as he blurted, “He said Mom’s dead.”

Dina pulled JJ close, holding him against her so she could school her expression. She shook her head, rage and sorrow warring within her. If she let out half of what she was feeling, she would only make things worse. Dina released a slow breath and evened her voice. “JJ, Mr. Jim is wrong.”

“But Ms. Libby said—”

She pushed him back so she could look him in the eye. She enunciated, “They. Don’t. Know. Your mom _is_ coming back. And let me tell you something: she wouldn’t want you anywhere but with me so you can keep me happy.”

“But you aren’t.”

Fuck. He was so shockingly perceptive sometimes. “You know, there are some people who believe that one person is just a half of a whole. That somewhere out there, the other half is inside someone else. And, buddy, your mom is my other half. Do you remember what that’s called?”

“Beshert.”

She smiled at her little boy. “Exactly. Mom is the other half of my soul, but you…” She tapped his nose. “You’re my whole heart, baby. If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do. Your mom knows that. She wouldn’t want you anywhere but with me.”

After a moment of his silence, she rocked his shoulders gently. “When Mom comes back, what do you think we should do for her?”

“Make pot-roast. And collards.” His expression twisted to indicate his opinion about Ellie’s favorite vegetable. Then his smile bloomed. “And ask her to play guitar. Get her new paints.”

“You think she’ll like Spot?”

His nod was jerky but certain. “She likes all animals.”

“Even the cows?”

“’specially the cows. Mr. Mark says so because she cusses at them so much.”

Dina kissed his head, smiling against his hair. “I bet she’d be happy to meet all the new foals in the barn too.”

“And the calves.”

“Remember her rule?”

“No kissing baby cows. Or you get the shits.”

Dina chuckled. “Your mom has such wonderful pearls of wisdom. Like… Wash your ears or you’ll make a candle.”

“Or keep your feet dry or you’ll grow CBI.”

That was a good one, but it took a little clarification with the kids around Jackson to explain Ellie was not suggesting fungal toenails were related to being infected.

“Finish your potato, Potato,” JJ supplied after a moment of Dina’s silence. His voice wobbled, and his little face twisted up in tears. Dina wiped his tears away. She nodded over to Spot.

“Think he wants to play fetch?”

That was enough to distract. JJ accepted the ball Dina pressed into his hand, and within a few tosses, he was smiling again. Dina though… Fuck, she hadn’t been this angry in a long, long time. By the time she strode up to Jim in the Tipsy Bison that evening, she didn’t give a fuck about polite society.

Jim was grinning as he looked over his shoulder at her, but his smile only partly fell away when he judged the expression on her face.

“Don’t you _ever_ talk about her again.”

Jim’s smirk remained. He asked, “What?”

“My son heard you discussing my wife like God-damn gossip. He thinks his mother’s dead because of you!”

Conversation immediately halted; everyone in the bar was watching now. Jim glanced around under the scrutiny and tried to laugh. “What? It’s not like we don’t all know—”

She slapped him. Jim stared down at the floor, looking as startled as Dina felt. She was too angry for that to give her pause. She hated that tears rose to her eyes, that her grief made her voice shake. “You won’t _ever_ talk about her again. The last thing my family needs is your fucking conjecture about whether or not my wife is alive!”

Jim stood up, his jaw drawn. He was nearly six feet tall, and he towered over her. “Your cunt wife is dead, Dina.”

She was stunned. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d punched her in the gut. Where had that vitriol come from? She couldn’t even refute his statement, and as Dina looked around at her neighbors and friends, she knew none of them would either.

It came to her then, the reason that no one had volunteered to ride out for Ellie. They all thought she was dead too.

“Jim!” Tommy snapped. Greg rounded the bar. Both men stepped in front of Dina. Jim looked between them, to Dina, and then once again around the bar. Whatever he saw made his mouth twist, and he turned on his heel to stride out.

“I’ll walk you home,” Greg said quietly.

“She’s not dead,” Dina gasped, looking around. “She’s not _fucking_ dead!”

Even Greg wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Come on,” Tommy muttered, taking her elbow as he cast a dark look around. “None of them know nothin’. Let’s get you home.”

* * *

Tommy’s note asking Dina to come by Maria’s for dinner put her heart in her throat. Alia glanced at Dina in question. “Problem?”

“Nothing.” If she was honest, Jackson would be gossiping that Tommy confirmed Ellie dead by nightfall. She pushed the note into her pocket and settled back into her work. From across the shop, Jim glowered at her briefly, but his new partner called him back to task.

For the better part of a week, they’d been repairing Jackson’s hand-held radios. It had been on Ellie’s to-do list for nearly a year, but their little repair guild had been swamped with a variety of needed repairs of electronics and wiring within Jackson. They had a team out at the dam for maintenance too.

She’d hoped to get Ellie up to the dam with her this year. They’d had a good time when they did the same last year, and… Dina turned her mind away from that line of thinking.

Since Ellie’s disappearance and the death three patrollers, reinforcing safety nets for Jackson’s patrols had moved up the priority list. This was the kind of work Dina enjoyed most, and it kept her mind off of her cold reality.

By the time she excused herself from the shop, she was ready to burst with her anger at Jim—who had been acting like Dina was in the wrong—embarrassment over her public outburst last week, disillusionment with Jackson, and worry over what information Tommy had to pass along. It didn’t take much self-reflection to know the latter made everything else worse.

She dropped home for a moment to see JJ and let Robin know she was eating dinner at Maria’s that night. When Dina knocked on Maria’s door, she rocked back and forth on her heels. Maria let her in with a worried smile, her arm closing around Dina’s shoulders in a quick hug.

Dina’s gaze caught on three new sets of shoes in Maria’s mudroom, all much too large for Maria.

Tommy sat at Maria’s table, cup of tea in hand. He shoved a chair out for Dina with one foot. Dina leaned down to accept Tommy’s hug before she dropped into her seat.

“You okay?” he asked her cautiously.

“Just tell me.”

He glanced up at Maria, who settled at the small round table with them. Dina’s heart dropped, and her dread crashed into her. She cupped her hand in front of her mouth. Maria immediately grasped Dina’s hand.

“It’s not that, Dina.”

“Oh, God.” She’d been so sure that she’d read the truth of Ellie’s death in their faces. Dina sank down and took long breaths. She wouldn’t cry again, not today, but her voice was dull. “You asked for volunteers?”

“I did,” Maria said quietly. She folded her hands together. “I think if we can figure out where we can send a team out.”

“A team? You’re giving Greg a lot of credit,” she muttered bitterly.

Maria deflated. “I have some pull, Dina, but not that kind of pull.”

“I’ll go,” Tommy declared. He read their emotions and pressed his lips, raising a hand to gesture. “Get me on a horse, and I’ll be fine. She’d do the same for me.”

Dina’s mind hadn’t strayed far from the fact Tommy had news. “Tommy, what do you have to tell me?”

“Right… It’s nothing direct, but it’s worth noting. That new group that came in last week, talked to one of ‘em at the bar today. Big guy, said he used to be an Enforcer for FEDRA.” Tommy leaned forward. “Word is the Fireflies are back.”

Dina’s nervous energy escaped in a low moan. She saw on his face her own thoughts: The Fireflies, who had wanted Ellie to create the cure. They’d been reasonably sure that FEDRA took Ellie, but now there was another faction that could want her too.

“How does he know?”

“Said there are bounties out now for Firefly agents within California QZs. So it’s a sure thing. Apparently they’re stationed on some island off the coast of southern California.”

“Southern California,” Dina replied dully. The anger that had simmered for a week abruptly flared. “All of it goes back to California.”

“Dina—”

“I hope you’re fucking happy, Tommy.”

His surprise melted into sorrow. “I didn’t mean—”

She shoved her chair back with a shriek and leaned over the table. “You knew exactly what you were asking her. And now she’s gone again because of you.”

“Dina we don’t know—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Maria.”

The sight of Tommy’s shoes taking a spot in Maria’s mudroom made her bitterness rise. Fuck him, and fuck his happiness.

* * *

That night, she poured over Ellie’s journals for want of any clue about what had happened in Santa Barbara. If everything tracked back to the Fireflies one way or another—Abby, Ellie’s disappearance, the knowledge of Ellie’s immunity—then she owed it to Ellie to look. But Ellie being the cryptic, taciturn woman she was only had sparse entries regarding her time in Santa Barbara. Dina placed bookmarks with every entry that seemed to reference it, but at the end of her search, she’d only marked a half dozen pages.

She went back to the earliest entries and brushed her fingertips over Ellie’s sketch of the symbol of the skull and snake. It hurt her to read the empty, lonely description of her journey to California. Dina had never considered that she and JJ were still on Ellie’s mind after she left; she didn’t know if that made things better or worse. The placement of this eerie symbol raised her unease. Based on Ellie’s words below, it was another local group. Dina could only assume the group was violent.

It was so odd that Ellie had drawn such a loving picture of Dina holding JJ on the next page. The poem above it put a lump in her throat.

_I could be in the woods  
 ~~Buried for the insects to clean,  
~~ Left for the insects to clean,  
Until the iron smell is gone  
Until I’m bleached and ~~beautiful~~ brittle;  
Ready to display._

Suicide. She’d been thinking killing herself; Dina could read that easily. Yet below those desolate words, and she had drawn Dina and JJ. It broke Dina’s heart to read this pain, even knowing Ellie had chosen them instead of oblivion.

Then that gentle sketch of Joel on the next page…

She’d been so sick, and sick in a way that Dina couldn’t heal.

When Ellie came back to her again, what kind of horrors would be lurking behind her eyes? As JJ had said, would Ellie be sad? He knew Ellie well, even if his comprehension of the why was less.

Dina would take Ellie back without hesitation. She’d take every horror, nightmare, and flashback if it meant Ellie was with her again. They’d already proved they could see it through together. She just had to have faith that Ellie would fight to get better.

“Babe,” she whispered. She raised Ellie’s ring to her lips. “I miss you so much.”

Flipping forward in the journal, Dina realized she’d overlooked the Firefly symbol sketched in dark detail. Ellie had lingered on it, her pen-strokes bold enough that she’d smeared ink with the flat of her hand. She’d sketched a—was that a giraffe?—within the bold lines of the Firefly. Below it was the poem:

_Is he it? Is she?  
Is their happiness all I need  
For my ~~resolution?~~ absolution?_

_His grin, her laugh.  
Is their love and adoration  
Worth more than all the rest?_

_How do I ~~let go~~ forget  
All those who died for what I am,  
For hope of resolution?_

_Our first kiss,  
Her last stand,  
The brother’s cry,  
His choking hand.  
When is my turn?_

_Give me the choice,  
For those before and those ~~beyond~~ to come.  
Let me set it right.  
Give me absolution._

Dina clutched Ellie’s wedding ring and reminded herself of all the evidence that told her Ellie hadn’t left of her own volition. She had to believe that wherever Ellie was, she would choose to come back if she could.

The problem was if Ellie thought her death would benefit Dina and JJ more than her life.

Dina flipped forward to the most recent Santa Barbara entry that was accompanied by a sketch of a scarred, hollow-eyed face. Dina studied those features before turning to the sketch of Abby on the adjacent page. Was that gaunt face also her? If it was…

The words, even with their light strike-through, about letting go, about a shell of a memory…

She’d assumed Ellie was talking about Joel for some of this, but maybe this entire song _was_ about Abby. If so, she had to consider that Ellie hadn’t killed Abby at all. Dina turned to an earlier entry, a sketch of a lone figure in a boat gazing back at her, and the words:

_Did you make it?  
Where did you go?  
Why do I have to know?_

She should have asked. She should have pushed past her fear that Ellie would shut down. Now all she had to go on were Ellie’s cryptic notes, poems, and songs.

If Abby was alive, then she would be the only other person who knew about Ellie’s immunity, and she would be in the perfect position to steal her for the cure.

* * *

The first time they had sex after Santa Barbara, Ellie was still living in Maria’s guest bedroom. Dina found her in the Tipsy Bison having dinner with Tommy and walked her home, hopeful for a nice talk on the porch and especially hopeful for a little kissing. Nothing said a mature woman like wanting to make out with your life partner on another woman’s porch.

Ellie had surprised her though. She bit her lip and initiated a slow, deep kiss. After a few minutes, they’d both been panting, their fingers in each other’s hair. Then Ellie murmured, “Want to come upstairs?”

Dina told herself not to get her hopes up, but Ellie hadn’t offered for Dina to sleep with her since she’d come back to Jackson. They’d shared a bed a few times, but always when Dina asked. The implication was there, though Dina wasn’t going to do anything but follow Ellie’s lead. She drew back just enough to study Ellie’s flushed face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

That _was_ an invitation. There was no doubt now. “You sure?”

Ellie nodded jerkily. She grabbed Dina’s hand and led her up the stairs, tripping halfway up and dragging Dina down too. Dina’s tension broke, and she burst out laughing, softening it to giggles when Ellie grinned and shushed her. They stumbled into Ellie’s room, hushing each other now, and the door slammed shut loudly, which made them collapse into laughter against each other.

Then Ellie kissed her, and Dina lost herself in it. Ellie pulled back to peel off her shirt. She turned her back to fold it, presenting her bare neck to Dina. Dina stepped forward to kiss the soft skin there, breathing in Ellie’s rich scent: hay and horses and a hint of citrus.

Ellie shivered and sighed when Dina smoothed a hand under her undershirt. Then she went still as Dina pressed her hand under her waistband, fingers moving through Ellie’s coarse pubic hair to find all the evidence she needed that Ellie wanted her.

“Fuck.”

“Good?” Dina asked cautiously, waiting for any cue this was too far.

“Stop.”

Dina immediately stopped and withdrew her hand, afraid she’d pushed too far. Ellie supported herself on the back of the chair, taking a few deep breaths. “Just didn’t want to come yet.”

Fuck, _yes_. Dina draped herself on Ellie’s back, kissing her neck, and putting her hand right back where it was. She hadn’t done anything but tease her. She nibbled at Ellie’s ear and murmured, “Why not?”

“We should at least be naked.”

Dina waggled her brows at Ellie when she turned, and they shared a grin. However, she could see Ellie’s point. She stripped out of her clothes and dropped them to the floor. Ellie was busy folding her jeans, but as soon as she saw Dina was naked, she shoved the rest of her clothes off and dumped them in a pile by the chair.

“Lie down.”

Ellie did as Dina requested, reclining on the bed with a couple pillows behind her. She was breathing hard, focused entirely on Dina. Now that she was here, Dina felt no rush. She sat on the edge of the mattress, studying Ellie’s lean body. She’d become alarmingly thin before she’d left for Santa Barbara, but Ellie was filling out as much as Dina could expect from her. There were new scars she needed to map. How strange to be unfamiliar with any part of Ellie’s body.

Dina touched the jagged scar on Ellie’s right side before pressing a kiss to it. Ellie inhaled deeply; she spread her legs wider. There was no doubt; she wanted this too. Dina left off her exploration to drop a kiss against Ellie’s inner thigh, breathing her in, shaking with her own need.

“Yeah?” Dina glanced up from her position, looking for any indication Ellie wasn’t feeling this. She saw nothing but anticipation and need. Still, she waited for Ellie to confirm, “Please, Dina.”

Ellie lasted all of a couple minutes, despite Dina’s entirely selfish movements—kissing and touching for her own pleasure without any effort to coordinate to get Ellie off. Before Dina was ready, Ellie tensed around her tellingly and after a few more moments, asked Dina to stop. Dina watched Ellie, reveling in the way she lay back in completely relaxation before sitting up, her eyes wide and just asking for…

Dina crawled in her lap to kiss her. Then Ellie’s hands were on her, stroking over her back, her breasts, then between her legs. Dina groaned into her kiss and rocked against Ellie’s touch. So fast, so much need, so good…

When she came, she relaxed onto Ellie as they both reclined, heavy with satisfaction and love.

“Man,” Ellie said.

“Mm…” Dina kissed her neck.

“That was really fast.”

“Shut up. We can practice later.” She slid most of her weight off of poor Ellie, who probably felt mushed under her. Dina went back to touching her skin, stroking the scar on Ellie’s side. It was ragged, several inches of zigzagged puckered skin, like Ellie had torn her skin through stitches.

“This is new.”

Ellie murmured a confirmation.

“How’d you get it?”

“Not sure I want to tell you.” At Dina’s questioning look, Ellie’s smile became a half-wince, but she maintained eye contact. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“Ellie, it’s me. I know firsthand how reckless you are. I’ll probably imagine worse than what happened.”

“Okay… I stepped into a snare and got…” She raised a hand. “…Swung upside down, right into a broken tree branch. I’m lucky it didn’t puncture my abdomen. I pushed a splinter out near my navel a few weeks later.”

“Jeez.” So maybe she wouldn’t have imagined something like that. “How’d you get out of the snare?”

“Uh…” Ellie took a long breath, looking uncertain. “I didn’t. These two guys who set up the snare came by and let me down.”

“That was nice of them.”

“Sure.”

In Dina’s experience, counterweight snares big enough to catch humans were for humans. It didn’t take knowing Ellie to guess that those two guys hadn’t been acting out of altruism, but when Ellie didn’t offer up more information, Dina let it go. Dina intertwined Ellie’s left hand in her own, leaning close to kiss the stumps of her last two fingers. Only the scars of her skin were still pink. “And this?”

“Clicker.”

Now that she looked at it, she could see the scar of a tooth on Ellie’s ring finger.

Ellie shrugged in the face of Dina’s obvious surprise. “Not the first time I’ve been bit.”

What a bizarre statement. Dina couldn’t help but smile, and Ellie responded with a slow grin too. Dina propped herself up on her elbow to kiss her lightly, and Ellie readily kissed her back. She rested her other arm alongside Ellie’s head, brushing her nose against Ellie’s. Then, gently, Dina touched the scar on Ellie’s right eyebrow.

“How about this one?”

“Dina...”

That was a ‘no’.

“Okay,” Dina replied gently. She kissed Ellie again. “That’s okay.”

When Ellie moved out from under her, Dina betrayed her disappointment with a sigh. Ellie studied her in the vanity mirror and returned to kiss her. “Hey, I’m not mad. I just… I need to take something to help me sleep tonight.”

That made her feel a little better. She hated that she said it, but Dina couldn’t help but offer, “You know... Given sex took us, like, five minutes, I think you’ll get to bed on time even if we go again.”

Ellie’s grin was slow; then she raised her brows and affected an unimpressed expression. “Really? That’s how you’re going to ask?”

“Come here, doofus.”

Though they did indeed last a bit longer the second time around, Ellie took her medication within half an hour. “I’m going to be out in thirty minutes tops after this,” Ellie warned.

“Can I stay until you fall asleep?”

“I’d like that.” Then she took a long breath and asked, “So that was okay?”

Dina was stunned and despite herself a little hurt. Then Dina swallowed that emotion to murmur the truth. “So fucking good.”

“I just…worry about being good enough. With my problems.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s hard to ignore the part of me that thinks you’d be happier with someone like Jesse.”

“Happier in bed or happier overall?”

“Both?” Ellie admitted.

“Ellie, Jesse and I weren’t going anywhere. Sex was just having fun with a friend while I pined away for you.”

Ellie snorted, as ever not believing the truth behind Dina’s mild hyperbole. “And it isn’t with me?”

“Yeah, but…” Dina considered how to phrase it. She fingered Ellie’s hand, lifting her head to meet Ellie’s gaze. The intimacy and familiarity, sharing her body with someone she loved… “Sex with you is great. It’s not about how often but how good it is when we do come together.”

“How good is it?”

“I said, right? Really fucking good,” Dina replied, watching Ellie’s expression shift from uncertainty to surprise. How could she be surprised? How could she have participated tonight and not known how good it had been? “You couldn’t tell?”

“Sometimes the dark thoughts are louder,” Ellie finally admitted, her voice going soft.

There were so many things she wanted to say to that, but humor was always easiest. “Well, guess I need to be louder in bed then.”

That finally coaxed a laugh, but Ellie was less responsive by now. She moved when Dina did, rolling onto her side to cuddle up against Dina’s back. Dina remained in her arms, listening to Ellie’s even breaths as she gently stroked Ellie’s tattoo. After Ellie was asleep, Dina indulged herself a half hour more before she got up, dressed, said goodnight to Maria in the kitchen, and whistled to herself happily all the way home.

Ellie’s fears be damned; she’d made Dina really happy that night. On their next date, she was going to suggest Ellie move in again. She was ready to have their life back, for real this time.

* * *

Tommy was in the bar, as usual, sipping whiskey and making conversation with Seth. Seth straightened when he saw Dina, offering a weak smile. Was that pity on his face? Fuck him. Then she looked at her feet and told herself she was _not_ going to turn into her sister.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Can you give us a minute, Seth?” she asked as kindly as she could.

Seth’s surprise was evident, but he nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Tommy gave her a wary glance. Dina set Ellie’s journal on the bar top and flipped to the entry of the skull and snake symbol. “Have you seen this before?”

“Is that her diary—”

One look, and Tommy immediately went quiet. He leaned over to squint at the page. “Can’t say I have.”

“She drew this when she was in Santa Barbara. Ask around, will you?”

“Sure.” Tommy touched the journal with one fingertip. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Dina took a long breath and released it. Her anger wasn’t constructive. She needed Tommy. Dammit, she liked him despite his flaws and his selfish, parochial nature. “What did she tell you about Santa Barbara?”

“Nothing specific. Just said she’d killed Abby.”

“Did she?”

That got his full attention. “Pardon?”

“Did she say, ‘Tommy, I killed Abby’?”

“She said it was done, but that was what she meant. Why?”

“She’s the only other person who knows.”

“I don’t—”

“Abby,” she snapped impatiently. “She’s the only other person in all of this who knows. We already went down the list of the WLF who came to kill Joel, and Abby was the last one. She was the only one who walked out of Seattle. Not only does she know about Ellie, she knows that Ellie lives in Jackson.”

“She’s dead, Dina.”

“I don’t know if she is. Look…” Dina opened the other journal and flipped through the entries to find the one of Ellie’s song about Abby. “She wrote ‘If you were unchanged, would I still let you go’.”

“Dina…”

“And here… She says, ‘Did you make it/Where did you go?’”

“No. No fuckin’ way. She went there, she killed Abby, and she came home.”

“What if she didn’t?! Abby was a Firefly, and apparently they’re based in California, and she knows about Ellie. What if it wasn’t FEDRA at all? What if it was the Fireflies?”

Tommy’s face settled into mulish firmness. His left eye fixed on Dina’s face. “She looked me in the eye and said, ‘Tommy, it’s done.’ She wouldn’t have let that bitch go. I know her.”

But he didn’t. He didn’t know the woman Ellie had become, and Dina was beginning to realize none of them knew the woman that trekked to Santa Barbara.

“I think we should go to Santa Barbara.”

That took him aback, his brow furrowed in question. “‘We’? You’d leave that boy of yours?”

The fact his accusation was fair made her angry. “You don’t get to say that to me.”

She should have asked Ellie about Santa Barbara, pushed past her fear of Ellie’s withdrawals, the ones that ruled their life on the farmhouse. As Dina remembered the few words they’d ever exchanged about Santa Barbara, a cold flash of fear swept her. “She got bit in Santa Barbara, Tommy. What if someone saw?”

“She did?”

“She told me. Her fingers. She said she was caught in a trap too.”

“Nah. She’s too damn careful for that.”

“It was a fucking suicide mission. Would she really care about her secret?”

“Shit. Show me that symbol again.” Dina flipped back to it, and Tommy’s gaze moved over it. “I’ll ask around tonight.”

* * *

It took a day for him to return to her.

“They’re called the Rattlers. They’re slavers, had a rebellion a few years ago. Apparently some outsider, a woman, released enough slaves to destroy a base. They trade with FEDRA,” Tommy said, sitting at her dinner table. His expression was dark, even his gray, dead eye downcast.

“Where?”

“Los Angeles.” His head dipped further. “And Santa Barbara.”

“Get out.”

He nodded before raising his gaze. “Dina, I...”

“Get out of my house, you fucking…” She turned away and folded her arms, choking on her angry words.

He paused with the door to the kitchen open, but whatever he considered saying, he kept to himself, tromping unsteadily down the steps into the darkness.

As Dina sat at the table, she felt the aching, gnawing need to leave. She had her life with JJ, and leaving him would devastate him. Leaving would be unforgivable and selfish. That entirely selfish part of her reflected that she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she didn’t go.

How ironic was it to know at the bottom of her heart that Ellie would beg her to stay?

She found the stack of maps that James kept in the bottom of the china cabinet and spread them out of the table. Dina didn’t have to pull Ellie’s journal out to remember her description of infected in Las Vegas or the horde that passed through Palmdale. She traced the highways and roads with her finger, considering the best route.

She could do this.

Dina would wait for the next blizzard to pass, the snows to thaw, and then she’d see how she felt. If it was anything like she felt now, she would be on the road—with or without Greg or Tommy—to California in less than a month. JJ would be safe with James and Robin, and Dina would be gone a few months at most. She’d go to Santa Barbara, find the Fireflies, find Abby, and see if she found Ellie there as well.

Maybe she’d change her mind; she’d give herself time to reflect on it. But for the first time since JJ was born, she was willing to entertain the thought of leaving him, even if only for answers.

* * *

It was stifling in the shop the next day. The snow was coming down hard, but the air temperature wasn’t terrible. Despite the many layers she wore to make the trip to work, Dina stripped to her shirt and rolled her sleeves up as soon as the door shut behind her. Part of her liked the warmth, but another part was annoyed that Alia felt the need to keep the shop this hot.

Jim arrived late, as usual; his smile of greeting oddly cheerful. The fact he approached Dina made everyone in the shop stare.

“Hey, boss,” he said as he peeled his coat off. Then he stripped out of his over-shirt to his tank, displaying a physique Dina was a little surprised to see. She’d only ever seen in him jackets and coats.

A dark tattoo on one veined bicep drew her attention. She paused and stared. Her world tilted.

It was a grinning skull wrapped up in a snake. For the first time, Dina noted the rattle on the snake’s tail. Jim cleared his throat, and when Dina met his gaze, he offered a slow, knowing sneer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waffled about the last chapter, hence the ever-changing chapter number. Pretty sure I will be putting it in now.


	7. Road to hell

Unlike most other QZs, San Francisco didn’t have a wall. Instead, FEDRA dug a huge moat on the south border of the city to isolate it as an island. Only one heavily patrolled bridge spanned the mainland to the city’s northern shore.

It would be impossible for SFQZ to patrol their shores as closely as they did their bridge, so the Fireflies took the safest option for once. Under the cover of darkness, they boated across the bay and docked on the east side of the island. They hid their boat within a labyrinth of flooded warehouses and slipped into the QZ, hopeful that if they were stopped, their forged papers would pass inspection. Abby wasn’t sure if it would be worse to be caught out after curfew or to hope no one stopped and searched them in broad daylight.

Being in a FEDRA QZ scared Abby more than she expected. The feeling of wrongness hovered over her shoulders even as they settled into their home base within the city. They took refuge in a large apartment in an abandoned building in the same quarter as the CBI lab.

There they took turns napping, refueling, and reviewing their plan. Abby had heard the plan for Miguel and Alyssa to move through the CBI facility enough to recite the steps verbatim. Abby and Lev would post outside the lab, ready to lend support if needed. They hoped to be in and out quickly and quietly and have enough time to get back to their boat before FEDRA shut down the QZ.

It was early evening by the time their contact, Renee, slipped into the abandoned apartment. He was empty-handed and nervous. It came as no surprise to Abby that Firefly spies within the QZ had failed to gather the supplies they would need to infiltrate the CBI lab. The way Renee talked, he was one of a handful of Firefly operatives remaining; their contact in the CBI lab had been killed in an unrelated bar brawl a week prior.

What a clusterfuck. Given what she’d learned about the collective force of the Fireflies in Seattle, it was to be expected. At the time, it had been heartbreaking to hear Isaac talk objectively about the Fireflies’ failures. Thankfully, Abby had been trained by someone far more competent.

“What do we need to do to make this work?” Abby asked over Miguel’s curse of anger.

Her words were firm enough to give everyone pause. Renee exhaled in relief. “We need to lure an Enforcer up here, get him to give us his passcode and pass. There’s a military bar on Baker, just a few blocks away, and a lot of them show up in full gear. We know where to hit the lab tech.”

“So we split up. Lev and I’ll get the lab tech; Miguel can get the Enforcer.”

Renee shook his head. “Miguel’s not gonna get an Enforcer to follow him here.”

Abby looked from Renee to Miguel. She shook her head as she realized what they were implying, especially when Renee looked her up and down slowly.

“There has to be another way,” Lev interjected.

“This would be the easiest one. She’s pretty enough…even if she doesn’t have boobs.”

“Hey, fuck you!” Lev snapped. Even Alyssa, who’d been nothing but silent and unhappy, visibly reacted. Miguel stepped in front of Renee, raising a placating hand. To Abby’s surprise, Miguel told Renee, “Shut up.” To Abby he said, “A single woman in an Enforcer bar is there for one reason. That means you go in alone. Can you do that?”

It was either her or Alyssa or calling the whole damn thing off. There was only one option.

Abby nodded, drawing Lev’s concerned glance. “Okay. Sure. I’ll get the Enforcer. Miguel takes the lab tech.”

Alyssa spoke for the first time in hours. “You want one with lab access if possible. The card should have a caduceus on it somewhere.”

“And if I can’t find one with that?”

“Any Enforcer will do then. They’re all allowed into gates to drop off bounties.”

Renee’s gaze lingered on the scars that striped Abby’s arms. He peeled off his sweater and handed it to her. Abby pulled it on without comment, flipping her braid from the collar. She turned back to Lev, who eyed her in concern. “I’ll be fine.”

“Is it really worth this?” he asked quietly.

“Be ready to back me up when I get him here, okay?”

Lev only shook his head.

It took several minutes to navigate the back alleys to the bar. Renee pressed a couple of ration cards into her palm.

As she crossed the street, Abby wished Lev were here to crack a dry joke. He’d say something clever and deprecating, the perfect combination to make her laugh. Abby took a deep breath and released it as she studied the sign declaring this building was a **BAR**. Clever. The WLF had had a few setups like this, but she’d never been in one, too worried about the empty calories of beer messing up her training.

The crowd inside the tiny building made her claustrophobic. Christ, there were a lot of people here despite curfew in less than two hours. The scent of cigarette smoke and spilled beer assailed her and did nothing to settle her nervous stomach. She was sure the patrons—many in FEDRA uniform—could tell she didn’t belong here. She wasn’t blind to the lingering looks she received. At least the music and conversation didn’t stop. Abby settled on a vacated stool and nodded at the bartender when he finally made his way to her.

He gave her a disinterested once-over. “What’ll you have?”

“Beer.”

“Four cards.”

Abby glanced at the two in hand and sighed. Fucking Renee. “Can I get a half-pour?”

The bartender glanced over his shoulder at a sign that read **FULL POURS ONLY**. “Right,” she replied, pocketing her cards. It was going to be hard to pick someone up if she got kicked out for loitering.

Four ration cards hit the bar beside Abby. “Here. My treat for the girl.”

Girl? Asshole.

Abby glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze moved over the Enforcer badge on the man’s uniform and the laminated card hanging out of his front pocket. Even better was the medical symbol printed in the corner. It couldn’t possibly be this easy. She pasted on a smile, glanced him over again, and said, “Thanks.”

He was about Abby’s age, though a furrow of scar tissue had left a streak of gray across his temple. The look on his face as he eyed her—with a slow lick across his lower lip—made her skin crawl.

“Haven’t seen you in here before.”

“Haven’t seen you either,” Abby replied, taking a sip of the beer that the bartender shoved in front of her. She didn’t remark that it was half head. The beer was weak, but that suited her purposes.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? Dick. Without thought, she replied, “Abby.”

Fucking shit, she would be a miserable spy.

“Abby,” he echoed. She held her breath as his finger brushed over her cheek. “Who cut you up?”

“My sister,” she replied off the cuff, pulling away under the guise of taking another sip of beer. She resisted the urge to rub her cheek on her shoulder.

“What a bitch, marking that pretty face.” He leaned closer to murmur, “Lucky for you I like scars.”

It was a funny time to recall Lev’s assertion her eyes went wide when she lied. Maybe the look would work for her as she said, “Me too.”

Did this shit actually work on women? She’d have to ask Alyssa later. He slugged his whiskey and snapped his glass back on the bar top, circling his finger for a refill. Abby wondered how long she’d have to tolerate his small talk and sleazy looks before she could suggest they leave. He drank quickly, and after his second refill, she decided it would be best to get him out of the bar before she had to carry him out.

“Wanna get out of here?”

He grinned in delight. He wasn’t unattractive, but the fact he knew that added to his sleaziness. “Oh, you and me’re gonna have some fun, Abby.”

Abby slipped off the stool, resisting the urge to put a fist into his scrotum for the hand that moved all over her body. When he grabbed her crotch, she pulled away, trying to turn her grimace into a smile. “My apartment’s close.”

“Why not here?” he murmured, with another disgusting lip lick. He was really starting to piss her off.

Abby shot him a look over her shoulder as she strode into the alley across the road. He followed, abruptly picking up speed to shove her face-first into the brick. Abby pushed him off. Her anger only amused him. He came at her again and cackled when she shoved him hard enough to make him grunt.

“Not here.”

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in a placating gesture, but she knew he was here to fuck her whenever, wherever, and however he wanted. The fact she fought back seemed to get him off. He adjusted himself in his pants, wanting her to pay attention to his erection.

What a fucking caricature of a _pendejo_. Manny used to say this kind of man gave the rest of them a bad name.

He followed her to the hallway of their hideout—the asshole commenting on the fact the building was marked as abandoned—before he slammed her hard enough into the wall to stun her. When he dragged her to the floor and unbuckled her belt, her rage exploded. She seized his ear in her teeth, but he yanked away from her too fast. He touched his ear; his face shifted into a grin as he saw the blood on his fingertips. She tried to punch him, but he grabbed her hand and bit her lip, drawing back to say, “You’re a crazy bitch.”

Then she buried her teeth in his nose, and he screamed and jerked under her grip as his flesh pulled loose. She punched him in the jaw; his eyes rolled back. That was enough to get out from under him, propel him through the door that opened across the hallway, and slam him into the floor. She dislocated his elbow with a satisfying snap and slammed her fist into the upturned side of his head, intent on busting his fucking face in.

“Abby!”

Someone seized her around the shoulders, and she spun, her fist raised—

Lev, Lev who wasn’t afraid but looked at her with sharp intensity. “We need him alive.”

It took a moment to place herself. Beyond Lev, Alyssa stared at the man on the floor, her hand cupped over her mouth in obvious horror. Abby had the abrupt bitter thought that maybe she’d proved herself fucked up enough to be worthy of Alyssa’s friendship.

She didn’t have time for this.

Abby climbed to her feet, backed away from the unconscious man, and waved a hand at him. “Help me strip him.”

* * *

They secured the card and uniform, but there was no code. They checked his pockets, his vest, inverted his socks, and thumped his boots, but the reality was that there would be no easy way to get the information they needed. She was cold, and the taste of blood was rancid in her mouth. Abby spat and wiped at her sore lip.

“I’m going to need your knife, Lev.”

Lev didn’t need to speak for Abby to read his question. He’d already asked her. Was saving Ellie really worth this? She examined the thought, and her conscience—while queasy at the thought—still pointed her in one direction. If she’d done worse for nothing, then a little pain for a life was a trade-off she could live with.

It wasn’t like she wasn’t still a piece of shit.

Abby silently studied the gagged, naked man secured to the chair as she settled into her reality. She lifted her gaze to meet Lev’s stare, and despite the concern radiating off him, he held out his knife. Abby folded the handle in her palm, walked to the door, and shut it firmly behind her.

* * *

The thing in the chair sobbed against the gag in his mouth. He was covered in piss, and he’d shit himself in the last exchange. The smell—blood and excrement and pain—took her back to the FOB’s ground floor.

The few fingernails he lost at the start had hurt him, but he’d retained his bravado because he hadn’t believed she’d do irreparable damage. Didn’t take much to prove him wrong.

Now the man rocked and cried, shaking his head. She could tell he was pleading even through the gag.

Abby shifted her weight and considered breaking his shin with her bludgeon. Isaac would have struck again before another request for information. He had called the quiet helplessness that followed pushing beyond suffering the sweet spot of pain. Instead, she pulled out the man’s gag and rested the pipe on the floor.

“Code?”

“Sixty-six…thirty-two. Please. Please—”

Isaac could have laid into him more, and she decided that it would be easier to check his bluff than push further. She was tired as hell, and she’d earned her reputation with him already. She shoved his gag back in and turned on her heel to walk out, shutting the door behind her firmly.

Abby exhaled, setting down her knife and pipe. She wasted a small amount of water to wash the blood from her steady hands. She looked up from her crouch at Lev and Alyssa, who watched her warily. “I need a favor.”

“What?” Lev said.

“Go in, tell him I’ll lay into him more if he’s lying, and ask him what the real code is. Be nice.”

“What did he tell you?” Alyssa asked, but Lev was already walking to the door. He knew what Alyssa didn’t: that knowing the answer would give up the game. Abby had sometimes wondered when he’d heard Wolves pray, as he surely had wondered how many Seraphites she’d killed. Maybe she’d assumed wrong when she thought he didn’t know about this part of her.

Alyssa approached cautiously to take the canteen from her hands. “Abby, are you okay?”

“Sure.” Her voice was gruff. Before Alyssa could reply, Lev walked back out and shut the door behind him quietly. He wiped away a smear of blood on the rim of his canteen. Lev kept his voice low as he spoke.

“Sixty-six thirty-two. He swore even when I said we knew he was lying. I think it’s the truth.”

Abby released a long breath of relief. As much as Isaac had relied on interrogation tactics, he knew its weaknesses. To have someone swear it to two different people—the good and bad—made their answer more likely to be truth.

“Do you want me to—”

“No.”

Abby was grateful to slit the Enforcer’s throat, even if he sobbed around his gag at the sight of her. In contrast to every moment leading up to it, there wasn’t pain in his death.

6632\. Ellie was alive as of three days prior, living in a cell in the back of the infection lab. All that pain for so little information.

It took Miguel and Renee another quarter hour to return to the apartment. Miguel tossed Alyssa a bag. He took less than thirty seconds to shake out the folded Enforcer uniform and declare, “He’s too small. I needed his fucking uniform.”

Fuck Miguel. Fuck FEDRA. Fuck all these fucking people.

“Jesus Christ,” Renee whispered. Abby looked over her shoulder, anger rising high as he left the door wide open to display the dead Enforcer.

“Abby,” Lev said, his voice sharp but steady. Her attention jerked to him, and he grasped her arm, his grip grounding.

She exhaled and focused on Miguel—who was big enough to make Abby feel small—trying to get his arm into the Enforcer’s uniform. She thought of the years her father wouldn’t speak of, the way he couldn’t hide his melancholy, the same darkness she saw in Alyssa, and the burden of her own sins: her fear of Ellie and Ellie’s grief. Abby had no choice. She was going to have to confront it all if she planned to do the right thing.

“It’ll fit me,” Abby heard herself say.

“Is that why you picked him?”

“He picked me. Too fucking bad for him, right?”

Miguel cursed and tossed aside the jacket. “You better get the job done.”

Abby ignored him, stripping out of her clothes to change. The pants were tight but fit well enough to pass. The fact she was allowed a pistol gave her relief. She slipped it into the holster on her right thigh. The jacket was a little loose in the shoulders and waist, but the tacvest would hide that. Hell, his boots fit surprisingly well. Abby lifted her arms and inhaled as Lev cinched the vest tight across her chest. It was heavy, constricting, and comforting.

She wondered what Owen would think if he could see her now. He’d probably approve of her mission—official and personal—but she was sure he’d laugh his ass off to see her sport the Enforcer patch on her arms.

She took another long breath, expanding her chest within the hard weight of the tacvest. Her nerves settled. This was happening one way or another. She’d find way.

“Ready?”

Alyssa fidgeted with her bag, fingering the card inside. There was a sheen of sweat on her forehead, and her hands shook. Yet when Alyssa met Abby’s gaze, all Abby saw on her face was determination.

“Abby.” Lev was worried.

She cocked her head and tried on a smile, hitting Lev gently on the shoulder. “We’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“Is that a kind of boat?”

It was the perfect moment for his levity. His smile was tense with worry, but his words were enough to make her chuckle. Fuck professionalism. “You’re such a goober.”

“Look for the light,” Lev murmured at the door.

“May she guide you and protect you,” Abby replied, squeezing his wrist. After Lev murmured his goodbyes to Alyssa, Abby caught his attention to say, “Get out if we don’t come back. Don’t worry about anyone but yourself. Promise me, Lev.”

“Only if you promise the same,” Lev replied.

“I promise.”

He didn’t believe her, but she didn’t believe him. It was a worst kind of detente. If she didn’t get herself out of here alive, she was going to get him killed too.

“Better fucking live then, Abby,” she murmured as she strode down the steps.

* * *

When Abby was fourteen, a pride of lions started terrorizing the Fireflies. They’d been roaming Salt Lake City since Outbreak, but Abby’s father considered them a helpful measure to control the flourishing domestic and exotic herds. Then they started killing Firefly patrollers, and he couldn’t ignore calls to have them exterminated.

Abby could still picture her father leaned against his desk, his mouth pulled as he listened to three of his top Firefly agents arguing they needed to kill the animals for their safety. Eventually, he nodded and said, “I’ll lead the hunt.”

“But, sir—”

The look Jerry gave in that moment silenced all protests.

“They don’t know what they’re doing,” he told Abby later, his mood dark as he picked at his dinner. “They don’t know the difference between humans and other animals. Why should they? We’re all just sacks of meat when we’re dead.”

“Can I go with you?” was all Abby wanted to know.

Jerry sighed and gave her that tight smile which meant he didn’t want to say ‘yes’ but had already decided to anyway.

She was excited, thinking she was finally old enough to have earned some of her father’s respect. She’d killed three infected with him just a few weeks before, earning both his surprise and praise. She was ready to be an asset to the Fireflies, ready to make him proud.

She wasn’t afraid when she saw the remnants of a human corpse that had been consumed by a large predator. She wasn’t afraid when she saw the dinner plate tracks of the lions. She wasn’t afraid when she sighted them down her scope. But when she scented the giant, maned lions, something primal stirred in her gut. It was musk and urine on the wind, a scent that breathed caution into her for the first time that day. That caution was pure instinct.

Jerry had tried to use Abby’s fear of heights as an example of evolutionary driven animal behaviors, but he’d shot himself in the foot with that learning moment because she’d only been attending to the edge of the hospital roof. Now though… Abby realized that thousands of years ago, her ancestors had lived on to procreate because they recognized that this scent meant danger.

They killed all four lions, but Abby’s father focused on the one that took three shots and half a mile of fleeing to die. Jerry followed behind Abby, all dark mood and unhappiness as Abby trotted ahead to look at the dead lion more closely.

Owen crouched over the biggest male, touching its mouth with wide eyes. “Woah, Abby, check this—Argh!” He flinched and jerked, his arm clamped in the lion’s mouth, and Abby shrieked despite herself, raising her rifle like a bludgeon.

Then Owen collapsed on the lion’s corpse with almost silent laughter. “The look on your face!”

“Asshole,” she muttered, wishing her face didn’t show her blushes so brilliantly. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”

“Come here. Check out these teeth.”

What had been a faint scent on the breeze turned into a horrific odor up close. Still, if Owen had just leaned all over the lion, she’d have to get over it until they got back to base. She crouched beside him, rolling her eyes when Owen twitched the lion’s lip and pretended to snarl. She pushed his hand aside to run a finger along one blunt fang. When Owen raised the lion’s massive paw, she couldn’t help but stare at the claws.

“Wow.”

Owen grinned at her. “Can you imagine if this thing ever became infected?”

“I hadn’t right until you said that. Thanks, Owen.”

“Hey, Doc? Think we can skin these bad boys? The pelts should be worth…” Whatever Owen saw on Jerry’s face made him stop and lower his head.

She would never forget her father’s terse, “Have respect, Owen.” She relived the pain of her father’s shame for months, how she’d joked with Owen over that body and how she’d privately hoped to cut out one of its fangs for herself.

The lions had been cremated. She would never forget the smell. Jerry seemed to mourn the animals for weeks. At the time, Abby had accepted her father’s melancholy and shortness as an indication he was morally superior to the rest of them—that she should mourn them too—but after she’d avenged him, she watched a pile of dead Scars burn and wondered why her father always seemed more impacted when he lost an animal patient than a human one.

* * *

The CBI testing lab was an unmarked building at least six stories high. But for the obvious electric lights and fencing that wrapped the whole building, Abby wouldn’t give it a second glance. Before curfew, there had to be pedestrian traffic just feet away from CBI testing.

“Wait.”

Alyssa stopped and gave Abby her abrupt searching attention. Abby studied her right back, realizing this might be the last time. “I know I’m not your first choice for this, but you have to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you. Abby, that isn’t why—”

“Nothing we see in there is going to change how I feel about you.”

That claim made Alyssa drop her gaze. “You can’t promise that.”

Abby thought of the corpse she’d left behind. “I think I can.” They didn’t have time for this. “You have to listen to me in there, Al. If we get in a tight spot, stick to me.” When Alyssa nodded, Abby continued, “There may be people in there you know.”

“It won’t be a problem.” Alyssa squeezed her hand. Abby looked down to study Alyssa’s grip around her palm. “Do you remember the plan?”

“We’re both making it out of this. Okay?”

She waited for Alyssa to repeat, “Okay.”

Abby went in first, with Alyssa to follow a minute later. Alyssa had said there wouldn’t be a guard; only a card reader barred outsiders from entering the small pedestrian kiosk. The first change from plan was the security guard in the kiosk.

Abby flashed her badge and offered a frown at the young woman manning the glassed-in guard station. The woman offered her a cursory glance and a yawn after the lock flashed green. She didn’t ask anything at all, and Abby volunteered no information.

Well… That was no different than not having a person there.

They had enough technology for these cards, scanners, and codes; but no one bothered with picture IDs. There was too much traffic in and out of this building. No wonder rumors of research had gotten as far as it had.

The sight of two armed guards manning the main building entrance raised her nerves. She kept her hands loose, one thumb in her pocket as she unholstered her weapon. The men were talking about a dog race bet and paid her only enough mind to wave her through the metal detector, though they ignored the alarm. They returned her firearm, and she settled it into her holster. Then the officer set a scanner to her neck.

She realized she had blood under her fingernails.

“Been exposed in the last forty-eight hours?”

She was startled by the question, but she’d practiced her excuse for her swollen lip. “No. Not unless you count the crazy bitch I fucked today. She was a biter.”

That earned a leer at her lip. The guard’s leer dropped to her hands, but she’d tucked her fingertips into her pockets. “I remember those days. New uniforms get all the pussy. Go on in.” The door at the end of the hall unlocked audibly.

She sported a nervous sweat by the time she made her way through a second locked door. Her fingertips were steady, though she blanked for a few seconds before the code came to mind. The lock flashed green—thank fuck—and the door opened into a locker room. She walked through and loitered at the other end of the hall. The lone Enforcer that strode by didn’t spare her a glance.

When Alyssa emerged across the hallway, they exchanged a quick look before she led them down the corridor to the elevators. Of all the things Abby expected as they stepped off the elevator on the third floor, it wasn’t a completely normal hallway with completely normal offices. It even smelled clean.

Alyssa led them down to the corner office. With a shaking hand, she knocked on the door. When there was no response, Alyssa deflated with a sigh. She scanned her card and entered a code. It turned red and didn’t unlatch. She tried again with a different code.

The placard on the wall stated the office belonged to Director Tara S. Abby glanced back down the quiet corridor and murmured, “Move.”

When Alyssa stepped back, Abby drove the heel of her boot into the door once. The wood splintered. Gotta love cheap-ass materials. One more kick, and the door swung open to reveal one of the most boring offices Abby had ever seen.

Alyssa scrambled for the laptop on the desk, folding it up and shoving the plug and a spare battery into her bag, then she grabbed a few folders and shoved them in too. Abby glanced around, listening for any indication their break-in had been detected. Then her gaze caught on a framed picture on the wall: Alyssa arm in arm with another woman. The other woman was kissing Alyssa’s neck.

Christ, was her ex-wife _heading_ this program? Tara, she’d said. Abby had always assumed Alyssa’s life in the QZ was one of regret and pain and depression, but that snapshot was idyllic. Didn’t mean that picture was anything but a moment of happiness though; Abby hated that it stung.

“Abby.”

She tore her gaze from the picture and focused on Alyssa. “Infection Lab?”

“Abby, you…” Her voice shook, but then she offered a brief, tense smile. “We’ll have to be in and out fast.”

They descended a corner stairwell to the first floor. Alyssa’s hands shook as she swiped her card against the reader. Abby pushed her aside to do it after the second failed attempt. Alyssa paused just inside the doorway, resting a hand on Abby’s wrist.

“This guard might recognize me.”

Abby remembered. She unlocked her holster. As Abby walked around the corner, she stilled. Alyssa bumped into her back.

The guard was already dead from a gunshot to the head.

“The fuck?” Alyssa strode by him and turned a fearful look to Abby. After she pocketed the pistol, Alyssa moved at a faster pace down the hallway. Abby followed Alyssa’s lead when she shoved her way into a large locker room, a set of showers, and another room where a few garish full-body rubber suits hung. Instead of donning one, she strode right by and opened the door to the next corridor without PPE.

The dull bleeping of a distant alarm finally registered. Alyssa jogged down the wide hallway with purpose, glancing in the window of one of the rooms. She used Abby’s keycard and passcode to open it, muttering, “Enforcers have access during a shutdown.”

There were two lab techs working inside, but they were oblivious as they bent over their lab stations. Without hesitation, Alyssa shot them both in the back of their orange head domes. Their suits deflated as their bodies collapsed, blood staining the bright plastic from the inside.

Abby stared at Alyssa, trying to comprehend why she’d just shot these people in the back. Alyssa’s response was an accusatory glare. “No one here deserves mercy.”

The lab was clean, devoid of living infected subjects. Each wall had several vent hoods. Alyssa pulled several large jars of infected samples off the wall and stacked them in her backpack, then started unlocking cabinets strategically, scattering samples and papers in her frenetic search.

A bundle within one open cabinet drew Abby’s attention away from the two dead lab techs. The boots and clothing were protected by double-wrapped plastic, marked by the words PATIENT ZERO. Ellie’s stuff? The boots were more than worth taking. Hell, there was a backpack behind it. She yanked at the plastic to tear it open and shove Ellie’s clothing inside, slinging the pack over her shoulder.

Alyssa tried to log into a computer on the counter and cursed, her hand shaking. “She changed her password. After four years, of course she did. Fuck.” She struck the counter with her fist.

“Al, we don’t have time! We need to get Ellie.”

Alyssa nodded shakily, turning without a word to lead Abby out of the lab to another locked door down the corridor.

The placard on the wall beside that large door made Abby stare. It read **J Anderson CBI Laboratory**.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. She stared at the placard and read the name again, unable to comprehend the truth. She’d known her dad worked for FEDRA, but this…

“Abby.” Abby focused on Alyssa, whose brow was drawn in sympathy. “I’m sorry, but we have to go.”

She gave that engraved sign one more look before she followed Alyssa into a burst of noise and light. Abby’s equilibrium was off as she adjusted to the flashing white and red lights and blaring alarm of the next corridor. She shook her head, focusing past her memories of Salt Lake.

She hadn’t expected her dad to be with her for any of this.

There were four people strapped onto gurneys. One bed held a freshly decapitated corpse—the body and all its blood held in clear plastic and marked with the word **DISPOSAL**. Three other beds lining the hallway held moving bodies. Two of them jerked within their restraints, their teeth bared in aggression and hunger, eyes bulging in their sockets. They screamed in apparent rage either at seeing prey or at the blaring alarm. Abby skirted them, careful despite their restraints.

Her gaze caught and held on the last one. The infected on the bed was wrong. Its palate was split like a stalker, its nose warped and forehead bulging, and its movements were spastic, yet… It eyes gazed at Abby in fixed concentration. She could see its irises. Its eyes were human, as was its choked, lisping plea. It moaned, “Kill me.”

“Abby!” Alyssa’s cry jerked her attention away. “We have to go!”

Abby gave the man one last look, startled by the tears that slipped down his temples as he stared her in the eye.

There was a surgical suite across a glass divide on their right. Beyond the glass observation window was every indication of an autopsy: open cranium, split and emptied torso, and a gaping abdomen. There was monitoring equipment still attached to the body.

It was a fucking vivisection.

Abby had seen and done a lot of shit, but that… Alyssa grabbed her shoulder and yanked her around, her grip shockingly powerful for such a small woman.

“I told you! No mercy!” Alyssa cried, her voice choked by frustrated tears.

To study infection, you had to infect people. To study immunity and test vaccines, you had to do the same damn thing. To do that with a disease that had no known treatment or cure was, as Abby’s dad had put it once, absolute evil. She hadn’t realized how firsthand his knowledge was. And Alyssa had worked here long enough to know this facility intimately.

Yet she knew her father and Alyssa weren’t evil with the same certainty that she knew she was doing the right thing by being here.

She kept her gaze on the door down the hallway, the hallway named after her father. They hit a weird dead-end room—thankfully devoid of any signs of life—turning back around to prepare to enter a hallway parallel to the one they’d traversed.

It was there that Alyssa doubled over and puked. Abby touched her back, earning a flinch. Alyssa wiped her mouth. Her hand shook and sweat beaded on her forehead. “Go,” she snapped harshly. Then she betrayed her fear when she gasped, “Please.”

What the fuck was waiting for them?

Abby unholstered her weapon and opened the door, stepping past a dead clicker and the orange-suited person bleeding out on the floor. All that was left of his hands was meaty gristle. Alyssa peered at his face and shook her head.

At least this hallway held more familiar infected types, all chained by their necks to the floor. The sound of their chains—loud in the momentary silence between shrieks of the alarm—put Abby back in Santa Barbara. She shuddered as Alyssa worked at the door.

This place was fucking hell on earth.

Beyond the door was a large laboratory. A terrified orange-suited lab worker cowered beneath a desk in the far corner, and it didn’t take a genius to see why. From across the room, Abby’s gaze moved to the streaks of blood that stained the clear door of a small cell on the opposite wall.

“No,” Abby whispered, rushing closer. In all that carnage, she only saw a dead Enforcer. She struck the cell door in frustration; of course Ellie wasn’t here. “Fuck!”

Alyssa turned around to trace the path of the small bloody footprints that marked the floor in a dizzying pattern. Abby waited impatiently for her to unlock the cell. As the door opened, the scream of music blasted over the repetitive shriek of the alarm. Abby’s brain decided it was important to acknowledge the singer was screaming, ‘ _I am still just a rat in a ca—ge!’_

Abby stepped carelessly into the blood and clots to pick up the journal that lay on the desk. It was the only thing in the room spared the carnage. There were a few sketches on the wall covered in blood, and a guitar case lay open on the cot. Her gaze fell to the deflated suit on the floor and the dead Enforcer lying beside it. Where had that Gigli wire come from?

Alyssa shut off the music, and they could hear each other again despite the alarm.

“Who did this?!”

“This? My money’s on Ellie.”

Alyssa looked at the carnage under their feet in shock.

“Director? Dr. Allie?”

They both turned. The person who’d spoken cowered in his orange suit when two pistols pointed at him.

“Where’s Ellie?” Abby snapped.

“Who?”

She pointed at the cot beside her. “The fucking patient!”

“Escaped,” he said, his voice shaking. “She left a few minutes ago. Dr. T followed her. She has Tom’s keycard.”

“That asshole still works here?” Alyssa paused and looked back at the nearly decapitated body on the floor. She seemed to shake herself. “Where did she go?”

“The patient infected her. She was talking about implanting the patient’s samples into her amygdala.”

When Alyssa raised her gun, Abby seized the barrel. She pulled quickly enough for Alyssa’s shot to go wide. Alyssa yanked her pistol away and racked the slide, but as the man cowered before her, she seemed to lose her nerve.

“Fuck you.” Anger wouldn’t have bothered Abby, but the pain on Alyssa’s face made her balk. Without a word, Alyssa turned away to retrace their steps. The only thing that made Alyssa pause was when Abby put a bullet in the pleading man on that first fucked up hallway. His death was the only justified killing that night.

The main hallway was eerily quiet as they emerged from the blaring alarm. Instead of turning left to leave, Alyssa turned in the opposite direction and ran down hall. Abby cursed and followed, her heart in her throat when Alyssa unlocked another door and darted inside.

When Abby rounded the corner and saw the uniformed Enforcer, her first instinct was to bodily yank Alyssa back. She put her body in front of Alyssa in the same moment she raised her pistol and shot the Enforcer dead. Immediately, Abby turned her gun to the other person in the room.

She was small, wearing scrubs, but her hair was dark and she didn’t have a tattoo. Not Ellie. Of fucking course not. The woman was unarmed, and her attention wasn’t on Abby’s pistol.

“Allie?”

“Hi, Tara,” Alyssa murmured. She reached out to coax Abby to lower her weapon, but she stayed tucked against Abby’s side.

“Thank god, Allie. She…” Tara gestured at the scabbed ring on her neck.

“Where’s Ellie?”

Tara ignored Abby’s question, turning back to fiddle with something that looked like a marriage between a giant protractor and a compass. Abby looked at their surroundings in more detail. They were in an out-patient surgery room of some sort, and there was an MRI control room through the doors to the right.

“We biopsied her brain infection, Allie. There.” She nodded to the vent hood on one wall. “You can do it, baby. Implant her Cord in my amygdala. We could halt my infection like hers. I have the MRI set up, but we’ll have to make do with locals.”

“When did she do that to you?”

“It’s been...” Her gaze darted around wildly. “Eleven minutes. We have time.”

Eleven minutes. Ellie was still within reach.

“We have to go after her!” Despite Abby’s vehemence, Alyssa remained fixated on the other woman in the room.

“I need your password, Tara.”

“The date you left.”

Tears rose to Alyssa’s eyes. Tara offered a hiss of anger as she fumbled with the contraption. “Fucking animal. I hope she runs straight into an Enforcer squad. She’ll be lucky if they kill her. If that’s what immunity does to someone, then—”

Abby didn’t stop Alyssa from raising her gun this time, but she still flinched at the gunshot. She looked from Tara’s body—sinking down to swoon across the table—to Alyssa, who continued to stare at her newly late wife. Was that mercy or rage?

Did she have any right to judge to the difference?

Alyssa had turned away in a rush of energy. She was crying and shaking as she stole Ellie’s biopsies from within the vent hood. Her gaze was wild. “We’ll get the data on the way out.”

“Al.” Abby took her arm in hand and squeezed, trying to grab Alyssa’s attention. “We’re okay. We’ll be okay. Take a second to breathe.”

But Alyssa pushed past Abby impatiently. She opened her backpack, and beyond Abby’s understanding, shattered a glass jar against the cabinet in the back of the room. Every sample Alyssa had painstakingly collected in the first lab was wasted on the floor. Then Abby saw the gas cylinders stored behind the wicker doors on the far wall.

Alyssa hadn’t wanted the samples; she’d wanted the embalming fluid.

Alyssa’s anger on Catalina Island finally made sense. This wasn’t the Firefly’s plan, but Alyssa wasn’t just here for search and retrieval. She was going to burn this hellhole to the ground.

Alyssa fumbled with a set of surgical tools, twisting knobs and draping the thick rubber cord over one arm habitually. She bent down and tapped the handpiece—forceps—to the puddle on the floor. Abby realized in that frozen moment it was a cautery unit.

As Abby yanked Alyssa off her feet and back out the door, the whole thing lit up. Without prompting, Alyssa ran, but she cut to the right to reenter the lab they’d first searched. Abby didn’t suppress her groan of frustration, but she had no choice but to follow. The two dead lab techs were still slumped on the floor, the bottom of their orange suits dark from the blood collected inside.

Alyssa skidded to a computer and shoved a datacard into the machine, entering the system without a problem this time. They both watched the percentage transfer climb.

Every second they waited, Ellie was getting farther away.

“Al!”

Someone had slammed open a door down the hall. Abby kept her gun in hand as a guard looked into the lab. He saw her without a mask and flinched just a moment before her bullet ended his life.

“Al!” Abby snapped again. Then Alyssa yanked the datacard from the computer and shoved it into her bag, going for the door, and finally, the exit.

* * *

What a clusterfuck. She had no idea where Ellie was—missed her escape by just minutes—and the QZ was sure to be swept with a fine-tooth comb. Maybe the samples would be enough for them to find a cure or vaccine. Maybe Ellie would escape and go home to live her life happily ever after.

And maybe Abby would become a Pulitzer Prize winning author before she died.

All she’d wanted to do was find Ellie and save her. She should feel relieved that Ellie hadn’t needed her, but fuck... Abby knew her road was leading straight to hell, good intentions or not, but this frustrated the shit out of her.

They’d made it two blocks when the first explosion shook the whole street. What was a sleepy night had turned into chaos within seconds.

Abby pushed Alyssa into the darkness of an alley when a military truck drove by.

Then Abby couldn’t find it in herself to let go. She rested her forehead against the cold brick and realized a part of her hadn’t expected to survive that place. For the moment, she shared her quiet peace with Alyssa, who leaned forward to rest her temple against Abby’s shoulder. Alyssa gave her all of ten seconds before she slipped out of the embrace to lead them back to their base. She didn’t turn back once to check the fire that was bright enough to light the sky behind them.

Hopefully that was all worth it for Alyssa.

The abandoned building was quiet, though the QZ seemed to be waking up with every passing minute. Abby kept an ear out for footsteps coming up the hall as Alyssa knocked on the door. As it creaked open, Abby kept her gaze down the hallway. Nothing stirred.

What was she going to do?

“Abby.” Lev caught her attention. His gaze jerked to the side in an exaggerated movement. She followed his cue.

And stopped.

Abby nearly didn’t recognize her. Not with her head shaved, not gaunt and defeated. Ellie sat in the corner with her wrists chained to her ankles, her hollow gaze on her feet. Her white scrubs were covered in blood. Her face was wet with sweat or tears, and there was a lurid bruise over her left eye. As Abby watched, Ellie’s gaze moved up Abby’s body and paused on her face.

The moment of recognition was strange. Against all odds, Ellie’s lips quirked into the ghost of a smile.

“Abby,” she said softly.

“Ellie,” Abby replied, her voice nearly stuck in her throat. She jerked her gaze away to look from Lev to Miguel.

Miguel was busy staring out the window. “Did you forget why you went in there? Just let her out and wish her buena suerte? Good fucking thing we posted outside to wait for you two.”

“We weren’t just there for her,” Alyssa retorted. Her argument with Miguel continued, but all Abby could focus on was Ellie’s direct stare.

“Abby,” Ellie said, her voice rough. “Please. Go to my family. You know where they are. Warn them. My son just turned five. They’ll kill him. I’ll do whatever the fuck you ask, but please…”

_I’ll fucking kill you. Please stop. Please don’t do this._

Abby’s breath came heavy. Her heart thumped hard enough that she heard its whirring flush in her ears.

Ellie had a family, a child. In all the thoughts she’d had about this woman, she’d never factored in the people that must surround her. This woman was capable of love, and somewhere, she had people who loved her too. That had been her mistake with Joel.

Miguel’s voice nearly pulled Abby’s gaze from Ellie. “Your family’s dead no matter what. Doesn’t matter to us or them if it’s FEDRA or infected that do it.”

Ellie didn’t seem to hear him. Her gaze was direct, honest, and so fucking much; Abby couldn’t look away.

She’d known all along what the right thing would be; she’d just been too much of a chickenshit to admit it to herself. She couldn’t survive another regret. It was time to buck up and finally do something that would make Owen proud. What had Yasmin said? This was everything Jerry had worked for his entire career. Abby had believed her father beyond reproach. But, as she’d told Yasmin, she’d fucking grown up.

Rightness settled over Abby. The breath that came heavy softened and eased, and the fear closed around her heart released all at once. She turned to Lev calmly. “You with me?”

“Always.”

He showed her the keys to Ellie’s restraints in his hand and nodded, as calm as she. Trust Lev to know her mind before she did. Abby dropped Ellie’s pack on the floor, pulling out the bundle of clothes she’d taken from the lab. She tore through the plastic and set the clothes and boots beside Ellie. “These yours?”

Ellie stared at the items wordlessly. Her brow gathered, and she looked up at Abby as if seeing her for the first time.

Miguel had returned to the window, his distrustful gaze tracking from Abby to Ellie. “You really know her, huh?”

“Just tried to kill each other a few times.”

From her crouched position, Ellie released a low, bitter laugh. Funny… Her familiarity was a comfort in its own way.

Despite Miguel’s size, Abby would have put money on Ellie in a fight if she’d been asked before today. But by Ellie’s hollow cheeks and defeated gaze, she was in as poor condition as Abby had ever seen. Then she saw the incision and stitches on the left side of Ellie’s head. The bruise over her left eye had a twin over her right. It was too symmetric to be anything but iatrogenic.

Jesus Christ, had they really cut into her brain? For the first time, Tara’s words registered. The horror of it swept through her.

Abby’s gun was in hand without thought. She took two strides to cross the room and pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of Miguel’s head. She yanked his pistol out of his holster and tossed it aside. She backed up a pace, her pistol trained on Miguel. “Lev, unlock her. Ellie, put on the clothes and take the gun. I’m taking you home.”

The look Miguel shot over his shoulder was pure hatred.

Immediately, Lev snapped, “Drop it!”

Abby didn’t expected to see Lev’s pistol raised. Her first instinct was to find the biggest threat in the room, but Ellie was in the same position against the wall. In her distraction, Miguel slammed Abby into the wall. He tried to snatch the gun from her. They grappled. Abby’s heart was high in her throat, entirely focused on the gun and keeping it pointed away from her face. Miguel was bigger and stronger than she was.

He was too tall to headbutt, and he turned his hip to protect his crotch from her knee. She wasn’t willing to give up her leverage to put a finger in his eye. He dragged her back from the wall to thump her against it again hard enough take her breath. His grip was like iron, and then he had the gun. Abby flinched away from the barrel as it came up, and she dropped to the floor when she heard the gunshots.

She wasn’t shot. She knew she wasn’t shot because she’d been shot before. Abby blinked up at Miguel, who slumped backwards on his knees, his eyes wide in death. When Abby swept her gaze around, Ellie stared back at her in surprise.

Lev and Alyssa both had their pistols out, and both were smoking.

“You okay?” Lev gasped at Abby.

“Peachy.” She touched her chest unconsciously to confirm she wasn’t bleeding. “What the fuck just happened?”

“I guess we aren’t taking her back to the Fireflies, are we?” Alyssa said quietly. Jesus, Lev and Alyssa had both shot Miguel to protect Abby. Abby reached towards Alyssa. “Are you still with us?”

Alyssa looked at Miguel then the gun in her hand. “I guess so.”

Not a ringing endorsement, but Abby wasn’t leaving her behind.

“Ellie, get changed. We have transit waiting on us.”

Ellie summed up the entire situation with two words: “Holy shit.”

She was changed in less than a minute, Miguel’s pistol shoved into her waistband, and her bruised brow drawn in concentration as she looked between the three of them. “Where?”

Then the QZ alarm went off.

* * *

The boat escape was dead in the water. “Pun fucking intended,” Abby muttered.

FEDRA had cut off every water access within the QZ by sheer bodies. They had no retreat. The gunshots had brought FEDRA to their abandoned building, and the entire quarter was being swarmed as more and more soldiers arrived. They would be discovered quickly if they didn’t get the fuck out.

Just like the Fireflies to have a plan this goddamn stupid. Then again, their little foray into the lab hadn’t ended as quietly as originally planned.

“Al, where do we go?” Lev whispered.

Alyssa shook her head, her gaze moving across the street. “Screw it. We’ll use the BART tunnel.”

“Where?”

Alyssa pointed at a staircase across the street that dropped into deep blackness. The blackness opened into an underground plaza; Alyssa motioned for everyone to don masks. Nothing like a FEDRA lock and a giant sign with the words DANGER INFECTED KILL ON SIGHT to raise the comfort levels. Nothing like a lock that Lev and Abby could open with a little effort to hammer home the fact FEDRA was as incompetent as the Fireflies.

The WLF had its faults, but they were by far the most well-run organization that Abby had been a part of. Even the Seraphites had FEDRA beat in this situation.

When Abby turned back to make sure Ellie was following, she stilled in shock to see her walk into the station without a cough or gag. She hesitated, pausing to walk abreast with Ellie. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Ellie flinched, her eyes going round in whale-eye. Then she muttered, “Just smells like ass.”

Abby’s surprise morphed into cautious amusement. She formed her reply, but the sound of infected made them all move more quietly. Between the four of them, they dispatched half a dozen infected on their way to the second platform. They walked along the tracks eastward until the last station, then Alyssa pointed them down another level.

Abby wasn’t looking forward to this. It put in her mind of the hospital basement, especially when she heard something big moving below them. Thankfully, gunfire from overhead drew the attention of all the infected, including the bloater they barely skirted. It was by luck that they descended a different staircase than the infected used to charge upward. They cut through the abandoned BART train on the south tracks, which spilled them into a miserably wet tunnel that was free of infected, though spores were thick.

Hopefully the infected would keep FEDRA busy for a while.

“We sent a team down here years ago to clear out the tunnels,” Alyssa told Lev.

“What about that bloater?”

“Came in after. Everyone who tries to escape through BART and doesn’t have a mask becomes infected before they make it past that train. Same on the other side. It’s a natural barrier to keep people in and out.”

“Seems like a great place to meet a shambler,” Ellie said dryly.

“Shamber doesn’t sound so bad. I’d love a dragon weapon in here,” Abby said, earning a crinkle of Lev’s eyes that suggested a smile. Abby nodded for Ellie to walk in front of her, turning her flashlight to survey the tunnel behind them. No infected. No FEDRA.

“How long is this line?”

“At least six miles.”

“Well, I guess we better get walking,” Abby replied.

* * *

Nearly two years after leaving the WLF, Abby finally learned they’d disbanded entirely. She’d moved on from her past but never considered that her past hadn’t moved on from her. After Ellie chased her across several states more than once, it was a wonder she took that for granted.

It had started as a pleasant surprise to see Cain on Catalina Island. He’d been among Isaac’s elite officers, even if he didn’t have Abby or Miguel’s rank. By chance he saw her on the docks of Avalon and greeted Abby with a shocked look that morphed into a grin. They embraced, thumping each other’s backs.

“I didn’t know you were a Firefly,” she told him.

“I wasn’t until now. It was Jill’s idea to follow the rumors. Most of us went to the closest QZ, but I’d rather eat my own gun than work for FEDRA.”

“San Francisco, then?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Hell, even Fran and Marco decided to go that way.”

Fran and Marco had been ex-Fireflies too. Abby was in no position to judge them for their decision, especially not after her first run to the mainland for Alyssa and seeing the Rattlers loading pallets of fresh food into the Firefly boat. She was still reeling about the fact she’d pledged her loyalty to a group that not only knew about the Rattlers but profited off them.

As a reminder to why that fucking stung, Cain stepped back and gave her a longer look-over.

“You look like shit.”

“Hey, I’m working on it. Got pretty sick last year.”

“Well, sick or not, I’m glad to see a familiar face that isn’t Jill. We should have a few drinks later, catch up. Owen’s probably still making that shitty moonshine, isn’t he?”

It was a shot of pain, enough to draw Cain’s surprise. “Did he not make it?”

“No.”

“What about Mel?” When Abby was silent, he sighed. “Shit. I’m sorry, Abby.”

“Me too.”

It wasn’t until Cain stopped by the cafeteria and saw Lev with her that Abby realized he knew more than he let on about her defection from the WLF. He stood over their table, his disbelieving gaze on Lev and Lev’s scars.

“I don’t fucking believe it. They said you turned traitor for a fucking Scar, but I thought it was just ‘cause you went after Owen after he killed Danny. But there you are, laughing with a fucking Scar.”

Abby felt her anger descend as Lev looked away from Cain’s stare. After everything Lev had been through in Seattle and Santa Barbara… He’d just started feeling better, and this fucking asshole…

“Shut the fuck up,” she said, slowly rising from her seat. All around them, Fireflies went quiet.

“Fuck you, Abby!” He crowded her against table. “You should have been leading the first wave on the island. Instead you were, what, playing house with one of them! You brought that thing here—”

She punched him, but her blow didn’t have the same power as it used to. He grabbed her around the waist and shoved, bigger than she was, but she didn’t need weight to grapple. Abby shifted her weight and seized his arm in a lock, hyperextending his elbow enough to make him scream. She shoved him hard against the table.

“Apologize,” she ground out.

“Fuck you,” Cain gasped. He screamed again when she put more pressure on his joint. Abby leaned closer to say, “If you so much as look in his direction, I’ll do more than break your arm.”

“Abby!”

She turned immediately to Lev, who’d gotten to his feet. His expression alone made her release Cain. She had more to say to Cain, but it would be better stated in private. Abby had to wait for the right opportunity to end their conversation satisfactorily.

She loitered outside Avalon’s bar two nights later, waiting for Cain to stumble out, drunk and unprepared. Abby propelled him across street, slamming his back up against the wall hard enough to make him gasp. She had one hand around his throat and another on his face. Abby drove her knee into his crotch twice.

“Mess with him, and I’ll kill you. Understand?”

He groaned, and she drove her knee into him again. “Answer me.”

“Yes! Fuck…”

When she released Cain, he slumped to the ground. Abby stood over him long enough for Cain to turn his gaze up to her so she could read the fear in his eyes. She took a step back and turned...only to come face to face with Alyssa. The doctor looked from Abby to Cain in disbelief. All of Abby’s righteous rage bled out of her in a heartbeat.

She ducked her head, shoved her hands into her pockets, and set off down the road. It wasn’t until she got home that she realized her hands were shaking.

She didn’t regret protecting Lev in Seattle or even here on the island. Yet… It did make her wonder.

She’d felt nothing when Cain confirmed the WLF disbanded. She’d felt almost nothing about Isaac dying. Abby realized she hadn’t truly believed in the rightness of her organization since Salt Lake City. She’d thought the WLF did things right, but she’d never bought in to their justification even when she told herself she did. After the first Scar kill, the first torture, the first dead teenager with fresh scars on his cheeks… She had to believe in the WLF’s rightness or she was a goddamn monster. She bought in because not doing it would have destroyed her sense of self.

Then she’d looked down at Joel bleeding on the floor, listened to Ellie sob for him, and realized there was no point in justification anymore. She’d destroyed herself purely to get here, and being here was misery.

She’d hoped the new Fireflies would restore some of the rightness within her. Unshakable loyalty for a new purpose, a just cause. And yet… It was more of the same, just another home that didn’t measure up to her memories. And she was more like her old self than she liked to admit.

For weeks, Abby waited for Yasmin to summon her and oust her for whatever Cain knew from the last few days of the WLF, but it didn’t happen, not even when Yasmin seemed to think everything Abby touched was poison. Abby welcomed it and feared it all in one. Maybe it would be better to live for herself and Lev because living for the Fireflies didn’t feel much different than living for the WLF.

* * *

It was a long, dark, wet journey, one that they had to pause when Lev abruptly stopped walking and gasped, “We’re under the ocean, aren’t we?”

“I could have gone without knowing that,” Ellie muttered. She seemed spooked when Abby glanced at her and quickly turned to continue down the tunnel after Alyssa. It was as if Ellie wasn’t used to seeing other humans.

Maybe because she wasn’t. How long had she been trapped in that lab?

Abby’s attention pulled back to Lev, who’d wrapped his arms around himself. She gently coaxed Lev to face her, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Lev, look at me.”

He shook, his hands clenched, and his teeth chattered audibly, probably only in part because he was submerged to his knees in cold water. When he made eye contact, she said, “This fear makes you stronger. Remember? ‘Only when weak may I carry my true strength.’ We’re fine, and we’re going to get out of here in one piece. I’m with you. I’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You can do this. All you have to do is keep walking.”

Slowly, his breath steadied. Abby squeezed his shoulder again, waiting for him to nod. “Good?”

“I never thought I’d get you to quote the Prophet to me.” By his tone, he was smiling.

“Come on, you got me to cross the Sky Bridge. Quoting the Prophet isn’t even noteworthy.”

“We didn’t cross, technically. We fell off it.”

“Why do you have to remind me of that? By the way, we’re adopting a dog when we get back home.”

“Then I’m taking you climbing,” Lev retorted. He sounded far more like his normal self.

“You know what? If we make it out of this, I’ll do it. Go on, Lev. I’m right behind you.”

At the deepest part of the tunnel, Abby was submerged up to her waist even on the raised walkway. Since she wasn’t encumbered by a mask, Ellie decided just to swim. The uphill trek was miserable, but it meant they could walk again and that they were closer to making it to the exit. Thankfully, the truck they’d hidden wasn’t too far from BART’s tracks near the coast.

Abby spent much of the trek with Alyssa’s bag held overhead to keep it dry. The laptop was too valuable to risk. Lev and Alyssa traded with her when she needed short breaks, but her front delts would be screaming at her the next day.

Ellie was flagging by the time they climbed back uphill to dry land, but by her expression, she was pissed when Abby suggested they pause to rest. Not that Abby wanted to do anything but get the fuck out of this place. They were all freezing and soaked and miserable.

“Everyone doing okay? Lev?”

“I hate this place,” Lev muttered. “Shouldn’t we be there?”

“Just past the next two trains.” Alyssa sounded as tired as Abby felt.

When they finally arrived at the train, Ellie sank into a seat by a skeleton and rested her face in her hands. Alyssa sat down across the aisle from Ellie and leaned her head on the cushion with her eyes closed behind her mask. Abby removed the machete clutched in the corpse’s hand and slipped it into the straps of her pack. Lev disappeared into the darkness down the train, his flashlight casting bizarre shadows as he moved through each car.

When he returned, his eyes communicated unhappiness. “There’s a horde on the tracks past the train.”

“How many?”

“At least a dozen, probably twice that.”

“That means we’re near the exit,” Alyssa said.

Abby couldn’t temper her sarcastic reply. “That’s great fucking news, Al.”

“Why are you being sarcastic?” Lev retorted.

Ellie released a choked laugh. She climbed to her feet and muttered, “I’m with him. I’d rather be here than back in the QZ.”

After hours of slogging through spores, it was still strange to see her without a mask. Ellie chanced another glance at Abby, and Abby realized Ellie couldn’t see her reassuring smile through her mask. Abby sighed, studied the group, and weighed her own exhaustion.

“We sneak past, yeah?”

She got nods all around.

“We can try to cut through to the north track. See if there are fewer infected there.”

Abby glanced at Alyssa. “Sounds like as good a plan as any.”

The back door out of the train was a creaky accordion that opened into a long drop to the tracks. Abby bared her teeth as she strained to open the damn thing. She locked out her elbows and braced her back against the frame, thankful everyone else was significantly smaller than she was. They ducked beneath her arms to drop into the darkness of the railway. Abby winced at the snapping sound of the door as she let it go to follow them.

The shriek of a clicker heralded the interest of at least a few of the horde, but she’d climbed up onto the narrow walkway by that point, following the bouncing lights of her comrades as Alyssa led them through a small access hallway to the mirroring track on the north side. Then she realized at least two infected were tailing her; fuck the noise, she ran.

Lev shoved a pipe through the handles on the door that closed behind Abby, bracing it against the infected that immediately tried to break through. Then they turned to see there was a goddamn train on this track too. When it crashed, it had accordioned, cutting off access for traversal on foot. Maybe the horde would have been a better option after all.

Abby pushed Alyssa aside wordlessly to work at the door of the train, putting every effort into yanking it open to get them through. She didn’t have enough leverage from her current height, and the door wouldn’t budge.

Lev tapped her shoulder to point at the top of the train. Abby glanced up, her flashlight illuminating a few feet of clearance. Thank god. She nodded, cupped her hands, and gave him a boost. After a moment, he appeared back over the edge and rolled his wrist, prompting Abby to boost Alyssa and Ellie as well.

By the noise against the barricaded door, the whole horde was trying to get inside now, drawing the attention of their own kind. From the sounds down the tunnel, there might be a population on the north track too. Abby shifted nervously, wondering if she’d drown if she tried to crawl underneath the train. She’d heard of a guy drowning in his gasmask in Seattle and didn’t relish the thought of following in his footsteps.

Lev was back over the edge, tossing down a thick cord. It cut her hands, but she didn’t give a fuck. She scrambled up the side of the train and dragged that cord back up again right in time for three infected to hit the train and scratch at it uselessly. Abby turned her flashlight down the tunnel. She didn’t see light, but she had to trust there was a way out.

Alyssa and Ellie were crawling above the mangled wreckage of the next few cars. Abby hastened to follow, banging her head on a pipe overhead. Lev brought up the rear, muttering, “Smooth,” after Abby stopped to rub her bruised scalp.

Something big moved in the darkness, its deep rumble drawing everyone’s attention. Ellie froze. Even from this distance, Abby could see the whites of her eyes.

A massive force slammed into the cars, knocking Ellie into the wreckage behind her. When an armored arm appeared out of the darkness—Ellie’s flashlight casting bizarre shadows on the tunnel wall—Ellie fired her pistol until there was nothing left in it.

Abby scrambled forward, her own weapon at the ready, but she couldn’t get there in time. The infected seized Ellie around the ankle and yanked her off the edge of the train into a pocket of darkness within the wreckage. Ellie’s flashlight clattered away.

As Abby crawled as quickly as she could, her light illuminated Ellie dodging away from a roaring bloater. Without hesitation, Abby dropped into wetness, raising her weapon to empty it into the infected, shouting to draw its attention. She got its attention all right. This thing had nothing on the Rat King, but it still put familiar fear within her. Abby dodged its roaring charge. It slammed into the train hard enough to shake the whole damn car and send something heavy crashing down.

Alarm swept her as she gazed up at the lip of the train. “Lev?!”

“I’m okay!” he shouted from overhead.

Holy fucking shit, the bloater’s strike had opened a crack wide enough for a runner to squeeze through. It seized her, and Abby shoved it away. Then—fuck, was she crazy?!—Ellie dropped the runner with a broken pipe before dodging the bloater’s flailing swing.

They both scrambled to put space between themselves and the bloater, but it tossed a toxin cloud as soon as they were out of reach. Ellie cried out in pain as she sprinted through it. Despite her focus on combat, Abby was startled to see Ellie react to that but not the buckets of spores she’d inhaled all night.

Abby drew her machete and screamed, “Come at me!”

It didn’t. Ellie swore as the bloater charged her. Abby ran after it as it crashed into another train car. Abby kept its back to her as she swung more than once to hack off its hand. It hardly bled.

“Abby!”

“Stay up there!” she shouted at Lev, dodging the bloater’s backhand. Lev put a couple bullets into its shoulder, earning a roar and momentary distraction. She had time to retreat to the opposite side of their bizarre arena. Ellie used her pipe to break open the head of a runner like a melon.

“Abby!” Lev shouted again, but she realized why too late. An infected—a fucking stalker—squeezed through some newly opened gap and seized her around the shoulders. She shoved at it, trying to drag it with her—gasping, “Fuck, shit, fucking shit!”—as she watched the bloater rush them.

They were both swept up in the bloater’s charge. Abby struck metal hard enough to send her bouncing off of it, her head ringing with pain. She blacked out momentarily and came back with her mask askew. The first thing she saw was the stalker’s head half-crushed against the BART train. Abby gasped, grabbing her mask to shift it back into place.

She could breathe. There was no pain. The seal hadn’t broken.

How had the bloater not killed her? Abby climbed to her feet, her shoulder and arm pulsing in time with her face. Her flashlight illuminated the bloater as it lunged at someone small darting beyond its arms. Ellie was unarmed and by the sound of her gasps, flagging.

As the bloater twisted, Abby saw the broken pipe sticking out of its back.

Ellie had just saved her goddamn life.

Anger rushed through her—rage at this thing that wouldn’t fucking die. Abby’s reality descended into the simplest form: the bloater was her enemy, and Ellie was her ally.

Fuck her enemy. Everything inside told her to kill it _now_.

“Get away from her!” Abby screamed, her rage propelling her to the bloater without a plan. She braced her foot on the pipe wedged in its fungal plates and sprang off it, provoking a roar of pain. For a frozen moment, her flashlight illuminated the vulgar meaty split in the bloater’s face and the row of yellow, crooked teeth in its bottom jaw.

With all the strength in her, she brought her machete straight down into the center of its head. The blade sank into the porous bone and flesh to the hilt. She screamed as she pulled on the handle, her entire body flexing despite the bloater’s arm fumbling for her face. Then the blade snapped. The bloater went limp; its entire mass rocked forward and crashed to the ground.

“Holy shit,” Ellie gasped, staring down at the infected. As Abby rose from her crouch atop its back, Ellie looked up at her with the same expression.

They both flinched as a stalker squeezed through a gap in the cars. Before it could reach them, it collapsed from a bullet wound. Abby raised a hand to Lev and Alyssa overhead. “Thanks.”

“Get up here!” Lev demanded impatiently, his voice high with worry.

Abby turned back to Ellie. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” There was subtle tremble to Ellie’s voice, but Abby ignored it like she ignored her own shaking hands. She tossed aside the machete hilt, climbed down off the bloater, and grabbed Ellie’s backpack, holding it out until Ellie took it from her. Abby’s face hurt and her shoulder ached, but she wasn’t bit and she wasn’t coughing. She was fine, and Ellie appeared fine too.

Ellie slipped the backpack over her shoulders, turning her flashlight to the bloater again. “You’re one ugly motherfucker.”

Abby’s tension released all at once with a laugh. Where had that humor come from? As she crouched and knit her fingers together to boost Ellie up, she did her best impression of that actor. “Let’s get to da chopper.”

When Ellie smiled, she was startlingly pretty. She paused with her hand on Abby’s shoulder. Ellie’s gaze was direct and without fear.

She said, “Abby? Thanks.”

And every moment of the last nightmare of a day was worth it.


	8. Evil comes to stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little change in perspective order.

As soon as Dina saw the sneering skull and snake tattoo, she lurched to her feet. But Jim pulled out a pistol, clucked, and shook his head. He wagged the gun at Dina. “Sit down.”

“What the fuck, Jim?” Khanh gasped.

Then they heard the first gunshots.

Khanh tackled Jim, taking him by surprise, and they grappled for the gun. Dina grabbed a screwdriver from her desk, but she’d only managed one step when the front door of the shop slammed back on its hinges and an armored woman stepped inside in a flurry of snow. She immediately shot Khanh.

Alia screamed, and the two others in the shop collapsed to the ground instinctively.

“How could you possibly fuck that up?” the woman asked Jim, who shook himself after a long look at Khanh’s body. He reclaimed his weapon and pointed it at Dina again. His voice shook. “Drop that.”

She hadn’t even had time to conceal it. Instead, Dina set the screwdriver back on the desk and raised her hands in surrender. “What’s this about, Jim? You’re one of us—”

“Christ, fucking shut up,” the woman snarled. She jerked her rifle around. “Everyone outside. Now!”

“Hey, Dina?”

She turned her head as Jim strode up to her, and somehow, she was surprised when he backhanded her across the face. Dina hit the desk and shook her head, warm blood soaking her mouth and chin. She felt like her face had been crushed; the pain was momentarily paralyzing. Alia crouched over her, her hand raised in supplication to Jim.

Jim raised his hands, one closed around his pistol. He offered a sickly grin and backed away. “Hey, fair’s fair. She slapped me first. You all saw it. Everyone out!”

Within an hour, nearly everyone in Jackson was rounded up and crowded into the church. Dina shoved through the crowd, desperately searching for JJ—and there he was with his grandparents. She hugged him close and checked him for any injuries, but she saw nothing but fear on his face. James and Robin surrounded them, and they offered her bloodied swollen face fearful stares.

Then Jim paced across the front of the church, paused at the pulpit, and shouted, “Howdy, folks! Most of you know me by now, but this here is my brother, Tank.”

The big, armored, armed man beside Jim said nothing as he glanced around the crowd. His face was vaguely familiar, but Dina couldn’t guess if it just was because of his similarity to Jim. Then she realized he was the one she’d bought chocolate from only weeks before.

This had been planned.

“What is this?” Maria projected calmness despite the bruises coming up on her face. Then Dina saw Tommy, bound and tied to a heavy table in the corner.

“Well—” Jim started.

“We’re the Rattlers,” Tank announced. “And we own you now.”

* * *

It was chaos for the first few minutes, but then they saw the two of their own that fought back shot dead without ceremony, and the fight coiled back into Jackson’s citizens. It would be one thing if these men and women had bolt-action weapons, but they carried semi-automatic rifles and pistols. They could mow through the entirety of Jackson with their loaded ammunition and have plenty to spare.

Things descended to deadly calmness when the Rattlers separated the women and men and passed out the coats and boots they must have raided from the houses and stores. More and more of Jackson’s citizens were shoved into the crowd. The church was stifling; it room stank of fear.

Then the Rattlers pulled the children away from their families, and chaos rose again. Dina struggled as they snatched JJ from her arms. She tried to shove the woman down, but the Rattler was as solid as a tree trunk, and Dina’s head rang as she picked herself off the floor.

“I’m not gonna hurt him, you fucking bitch,” the Rattler snapped. Then she shook JJ and yelled, “Shut up!”

There were shouts and cries all around, begging and pleading, and Dina could only watch with her heart in her throat as JJ disappeared into the cold quiet of the evening, screaming and reaching for her within the arms of a stranger. She shoved through the crowd, pushing beside Maria, and said, “Jim, please! Please, the children—”

“We’re not going to fucking hurt them,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Jesus Christ, boss, calm down.”

“Where are they taking them?”

“Somewhere warmer than you’ll be. I’ll be thanking me for thinking of the kids come morning.”

“Please, Jim—”

He met her eye and said, “We’re not going to hurt the kids. We don’t do that shit.”

There was no ridicule, sarcasm, or derision in his voice. For the first time today, she saw some truth on his face. It wasn’t lost on Dina that there were no promises for everyone else.

It was nearly dark when the Rattlers marched Jackson’s women across the snowy field to a set of hastily erected cages by the church. There were a couple of barrels with warm fires going nearby, but that was the extent of their comfort.

“Oh, my god,” Robin whispered. “Oh, my god.”

The women clustered within the cages, shivering and uncertain. Dina looked around and knew this was it for them. They were going to have to live in this environment if they expected to survive. She’d seen the after-effects of what the Ravens did to their captives in New Mexico. The Rattlers were just more of the same. The difference was that Dina had knifed the Raven that was going to take them back to captivity so long ago, saving her family from capture. Her first kill.

As Ellie had written, fuck them.

“Can we get some wood or cardboard?” she asked one of the few Rattlers that huddled near the fire. “So we can shovel some of this snow?”

The group exchanged looks, and the leader—the woman apparently—shrugged in response. The man returned sometime later with a couple of thick pieces of cardboard. He slipped them through the gap by the door. Maria and Cat both took a piece and worked with Dina to scoop snow into tight walls against the fencing to help block some of the cold wind that hit them.

They spread the cardboard on the ground and gathered the oldest and smallest into the center of their little group. Dina sat in Robin’s arms, tucked close to Cat and Susan, and she watched their Rattler guards. Occasionally, the wind shifted and blew smoke and heat at them.

What the fuck awaited them the next day?

* * *

The answer: work.

With their feet in shackles, they were put to work shoveling snow, clearing roofs, and even plowing the frozen fields, all by hand. At least the sun came out hard and beautiful, sparing them heat, but the snow became a heavy, soggy mess of mud.

If any of them stopped, the Rattlers descended with guns and screamed in their faces to keep going. Those of them that didn’t or couldn’t were pulled out, drawing cries of fear from those of them close enough to see, and they were infected with a runner that strained on a chain.

Doc Jons was among the half dozen that would turn the first day.

After seeing that, everyone worked without complaint.

When Dina saw JJ again, her heart missed a beat. None of the Rattlers had been willing to answer any of their questions about the children. Her son peered over the edge of the daycare’s glass window and looked out at the women shoveling snow on Main Street. He offered a short, frightened wave at Dina, who raised a shaking hand to wave back. Then her guard struck her behind the knee, collapsing her leg with a jolt of pain, and demanded Dina move the fuck up.

Dina expected the Rattlers to pull women out to divide among themselves. The Ravens would have done it within the first hours. But the Rattlers seemed to care more about food and booze than sex. Maybe they were fucking each other. A part of Dina wondered if she might have a better chance at escape if these fucks did want to rape.

By the time they were shuffled back into their pen by the church, Dina was so exhausted she wasn’t hungry. Yet her stomach demanded food and water—in the form of watered down, poorly seasoned stew that they sipped in turn. The only benefit from that stew was its warmth.

“Why are you doing this?” Maria asked as she handed the empty bowl back through the gap in the cage.

The Rattler only rolled her eyes and walked back over to the fire, where she and her partner enjoyed a roasted chicken. They laughed together as if it were a normal night. When they were done, they tossed the bones into the cage, but no one was hungry enough to eat them.

Dina predicted that would change within a day or two.

That night, there were whispers within the cage about the fear of another spring snowstorm, affirmation that everyone was okay, which children they’d seen that afternoon, the brief glimpses a few of them had gotten of the men, and then after their guards approach to pound on the cage with their rifle butts, just silence.

In that silence, Dina closed her eyes and couldn’t quite push the sight of Khanh’s death from mind. She’d respected him and looked up to him. He’d died protecting Jackson, protecting her, and he left behind a son. Part of her wished she’d been faster with the screwdriver, but the Rattler woman would have shot her dead if she’d killed Jim.

She had to be smart, but that was going to take patience and watching Jackson lose more of their own.

How were they going to get out of this?

Despite the cold and fear, Dina’s exhaustion draped over her in heavy darkness.

She started, lifting her head from Robin’s. It took a moment to identify what had woken her. The Rattlers had dragged out an old stereo and turned it on. As Robin lay in Dina’s arms and shivered from cold and pain, Dina closed her eyes again and tried to ignore the warped sound of metal music blaring from the stereo.

As if the cold and fear weren’t bad enough; now they had that fucking music to contend with while they slept.

* * *

When Jim came for her the next day, Dina was sure he would rape her or kill her. He exchanged greetings with the Rattler watching over Dina. Danielle was her name, and she was one of the two near-constant guards of the women.

“Fine,” Danielle told Jim with a bored stare. Robin turned from her spot digging a planting line, her face fearful, but Dina shook her head. She climbed to her feet, set aside her small trowel, and watched Danielle apply a set of manacles to her wrists. Dina had nothing to gain by fighting back right now. She studied the cuffs and the master key that Danielle carried. Their other guard, Connor, carried another set.

“Hey, boss,” Jim said. He grinned and opened his coat to display the revolver there in clear warning. Now he pulled it from his holster and turned it in his hand. “Where’d she get this? Real nice weapon. Wonder how many people she killed with it.”

It was Ellie’s, Dina realized. Fuck him. Now Jim spun it on his finger like he was in an old Spaghetti Western movie. Idiot. She hoped he shot himself with it, though some of her fear extended for herself. She hadn’t seen any rounds in it, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one loaded to be fired.

Then Jim opened the cylinder and loaded six rounds inside, flicking his wrist to snap the cylinder shut. Seeing that would have pissed Ellie off to no end. Dina could still remember her bitching about one of her new patrollers doing the same and how the revolver had jammed during their first scuffle with infected.

Dina followed Jim obediently as they walked through the fields to the end of Main Street. Along the way, she exchanged quick looks with James, beyond relieved to see him alive and apparently unharmed. Then she saw Tommy. They’d hitched him to a small cart, and three Rattlers sat on the back whistling and hooting. One used a riding crop to hit Tommy on the shoulders as he dragged the cart through the mud.

When he met Dina’s gaze with his good eye, all she saw on his face was murder. She shook her head, praying he wouldn’t do anything stupid, but he only ducked his head and kept pulling.

Main Street was empty. All of Jackson proper was like a ghost town, even if raucous laughter and gunshots broke the silence at odd intervals. Given the guards that rotated at the women’s pen—and those she assumed guarded the men—the three manned watchtowers, and the number of Rattlers that were fucking around, there had to be at least thirty of them. Even now, she could see a few Rattlers riding Jackson’s horses down the street, laughing and shooting a variety of weapons at targets they’d set up by the West Gate. She stared for a moment. One was shirtless; he’d had dressed himself up with a feather headdress and tried to shoot Ellie’s carefully maintained bow as he kicked the horse—poor Japan—into a gallop.

The number of them that took over Jackson in less than a day was astounding. As much as Dina didn’t want to accept it, Jackson got sloppy and they’d were all paying for it.

She could guess what had happened. The snowfall had been thick enough that the few Rattlers posing as traders would have been able to open the gates without being caught, letting in the rest of their group and all their weapons. Jim would have known when and where and how after living here for over a year. Then Jackson hadn’t stood a chance, not against the Rattlers’ munitions.

Jackson’s houses and stores had been ransacked by the look of things. Dina wondered where all the supplies had ended up. She wondered where the ammunition and extra weapons were stored.

Jim jerked his chin towards the daycare and the kids playing outside. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

JJ saw Dina only a moment after she saw him. To her fear, he vaulted the small fence and sprinted for her. She was more aware than ever of the loaded revolver in Jim’s hand and put herself between that gun and JJ. With her heart in her throat, she attempted to run to him, but her restraints made her stumble. JJ flew into her arms. She stroked his hair, kissed him, and held him close. He was alive. He felt thin—even after just a couple days—his eyes wide in terror, but he was alive.

These days apart had been the longest in her life.

“Love you, baby.”

“Mama…”

“Are you hurt?”

He shook his head in her arms.

“Has anyone touched you?”

He shook his head again. She held him close and prayed that was true. The Rattlers hadn’t raped the women so far, but the children were out of sight. She cast her gaze over the group of kids playing and caught sight of Lacey for the first time. In all the chaos, she hadn’t realized Lacey was missing. The woman held her baby in her arms and exchanged a terrified look with Dina.

“Do what they tell you, baby, okay? JJ, look at me.”

He looked, his face crumpling with tears.

“Do what they tell you, but stay with Ms. Lacey. Promise me.”

“P-promise,” he whispered.

“Hey, Park!”

Down the street, the Rattler with the headdress looked up. When Jim gestured, Park dismounted and strode across the street to open a cage. At first, Dina thought it was another pen for Jackson’s citizens, but the animal that emerged from the pen—dirty and bedraggled—made JJ struggle in her arms.

It was Spot. The puppy was gangly and wary, his tail down and ears back as he trotted up the street. Then a Rattler raised his weapon and put a bullet in the ground by Spot’s paws. Dina picked up JJ and dragged them out of the street as Jim laughed and raised Ellie’s revolver. His shot went wide, and he laughed and swore in shock at the recoil before bracing his wrist with his left hand. The second shot hit Spot in the shoulder, and the puppy shrieked as he collapsed and thrashed.

JJ screamed and wept in Dina’s arms. He’d twisted around to look, but she pushed his head back to her breasts and hushed him. Another bullet ended the screaming, and Jim laughed. “Nice shot!”

“You fucking monster!” Lacey cried.

“What?” Jim asked, pacing over to grab JJ from Dina. “It’s not like I shot a kid.”

“No!” Dina screamed, desperate to keep JJ folded in the safety of her arms. Jim kicked them both, but his blow took the breath from Dina’s body. She gasped and groaned, reaching out to take JJ back, but Jim had him by the upper arm. Then he holstered his gun and slapped JJ.

The blow stunned Dina and JJ both.

“Jesus Christ,” Jim said, looking between them in irritation. “I’m not gonna shoot your fucking kid, Dina.”

JJ’s eyes rounded as he stared up at Jim in shock. He’d never been hit in his life. Dina gulped in her first breath and slowly got to her feet, balanced on the raw edge of wanting to fight back—not quite believing Jim’s assertion he wouldn’t hurt JJ while in view of Spot’s bleeding body in the street—and knowing that if she did, JJ would be hurt worse.

“JJ, baby,” she murmured, trying to firm her voice to hide her fear. “Go back to Lacey. Okay?”

He blinked up at her, holding his cheek with his free hand. He already had a lump coming up on his cheekbone.

“Go back to class.” She injected command into her voice, and as Jim released his arm, he obeyed. His sudden tears broke her heart and twisted her up tight. Dina knew that he was looking down the street at Spot lying in the mud, but she watched Jim for any sign of him reaching for his holster.

She had to get him out of this situation, but no one could save them but themselves.

“Seems a waste of meat,” Jim said as he led Dina back to the pen.

“Jim,” she murmured, weary of his threats.

He rolled his eyes. “You could never take any of my jokes. Everyone always talks about how fun and nice you are, but you were a goddamn bitch to me.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Take a guess,” he said, his face abruptly sharp in his anger.

Dina shook her head. “I don’t know, Jim. I have no idea what we could have done to deserve this.”

He was silent, stewing in apparent frustration at her answer. He barely waited for Danielle to shove Dina back to her place in line before striding away. On his way, Jim unholstered the revolver and took three shots to shoot off the hand of the infected—Doc Jons—that strained on the end of its chain across the field.

* * *

As Dina sipped the stew that night, she wondered if Spot’s remains had been used. She didn’t have much of an appetite, especially not when Jim approached, pretending to be here by chance. He was the kind of man who couldn’t let something go, apparently. He pulled up a chair and set an oil lamp beside it, sitting only a few feet back from the fencing that was the pen’s perimeter. His eyes looked black in the darkness, but she knew they were fixed on her.

“You asked me why today. See, I don’t want you lot to operate under the assumption we’re the bad guys. So let’s play a little game. You guess who brought us here. I’ll give you a hint. She’s got red hair and a tattoo on one arm.”

A murmur rose from the group. Dina just waited Jim out. He looked around, and his frown settled when no one offered another question.

“We had a good harvest that year, you know. Doing hella good. Then outta nowhere, some cunt blows through our main hub for no fucking reason. She kills over a dozen of us, and the worst part? She releases enough prisoners to stage a goddamn rebellion. Guess how many of us died from that one cunt.”

What a verbose asshole. Then Dina realized by his stare she was supposed to verbalize her guess. Ellie would have said, ‘Not enough’, but Dina couldn’t let her anger make her stupid.

“Twenty?”

“Forty-two.”

“She’s not even here,” Cat said, her voice tinged with disbelief Dina couldn’t summon anymore.

Jim offered a slow grin in response. “FEDRA was generous. More than generous. Traded us enough supplies to take this shithole over. We just had to give them information too. I wish I’d seen her face when they took her.”

Fuck. Knowing the truth was no relief. Tommy had been right, but so had Dina. It all went back to Santa Barbara. She couldn’t summon an ounce of blame about it anymore, not even towards Tommy.

“Why did they want her?” Robin asked.

“Why the fuck do I care?” Jim replied. “She probably fucked over someone she shouldn’t’ve. Some bigwig or something. I’ve heard all sorts of shit about FEDRA punishments. They don’t have jails, but someone disappears every day. Rumor is they’re like us and punish people by infecting them. We make ‘em useful, but FEDRA likes to cut ‘em open, study their insides while they bleed out in their labs.” His smile bloomed. “I hope she suffered.”

“If she’s dead, why are you still doing this? You’ve already punished her.”

“Because we can,” Jim replied. He winked and tapped his temple with his revolver. What Dina wouldn’t give to see him blow his own head off accidentally. “Sleep on that, ladies. Goodnight.”

“Fuck them,” Cat whispered. “This isn’t because of Ellie. He said it himself.”

“I think we all know that,” Maria replied firmly. In a display of uncharacteristic emotion, Maria reached out and took Dina’s hand, squeezing it tight. “I’m sorry, Dina.”

“Why?”

“If FEDRA really does have her…”

Her words tumbled out despite the tightness in her throat. “I won’t believe it. I can’t.”

“Alright,” was Maria’s quiet reply.

“Shut up!” Danielle strode over to use the butt of her rifle to hit the side of the cage several times. “Fucking Jim, stirring up trouble,” was her irritated mutter as she walked back to her spot by the barrel fire.

* * *

The next day, Cat’s mother collapsed in the fields, burning up with fever. The Rattlers infected her. And the worst part was no one but Cat fought back.

The Rattlers knew what they were doing. They exhausted Jackson’s citizens by working them to the bone, assigning them tasks that could easily be performed by the machinery Jackson maintained. They were too tired to plan, let alone consider fighting back. Sleep was a precious commodity for the cold, the music, and their fear.

They dug, planted, picked, and pulled all day until it was all Dina could see when she closed her eyes. Her hands ached constantly, and she was sure she had frostbite on at least a few toes.

The point wasn’t efficiency or effectiveness. It was breaking Jackson’s collective spirit.

“I used to love this album,” Cat murmured on Dina’s shoulder that night.

“Is it yours?”

“I think so.” Cat sniffed, not bothering to hide her steady tears. Her right eye had swollen closed, her lip bruised and cracked. “Another fucking thing they took from me.”

Dina knew what that kind of loss felt like, a loss all the worse because it had been stolen by someone else. Even the knowledge that Cat’s brother and father were alive couldn’t soften the blow. The survival of a family member brought with it the fresh worries over their health and safety.

The fact Dina knew nothing more of JJ was killing her hour by hour. None of them saw James that day.

On the fourth day, Dina considered what she could do with a scythe, only to see Bonnie use one to swing at the Rattler guarding her, cutting off the man’s foot. She died to their bullets. The Rattlers cut her head off while she was still twitching and erected it on a spike by the church. They only took the head down when Danielle complained about the smell, and the Rattler’s version of disposal was tossing it in their ever-present barrel fire.

The only sign of hope Dina found in it all was the rising complaints among the Rattlers about being here and wanting to go home where it was warm and comfortable and their prisoners knew how to ‘fucking work’. Their discontent was severe for how short a time they’d been here.

Dina didn’t sleep long enough to feel rested, but her dreams were relentless. She dreamed of warmth, of food, of Ellie, of JJ, of happiness. Sometimes the undertone of her dreams was of dread. Sometimes she woke without knowing what her reality was, and the dread and terror of her current situation sank in as if she were experiencing it for the first time all over again.

In the uncertainty of their situation, they all seemed to realize that this was unsustainable. As the Rattler’s complaints got louder day by day, Dina realized it wasn’t hope but dread that rose within her. The question remained what the Rattlers had in store for Jackson when the town ran out of food or lost its electricity.

* * *

The first public punishment was held on the sixth day. They had been pushed well past the usual quitting time the night before. They were all dragging and received no dinner and half the amount of water to spare. Dina only drank enough to wet her mouth, but after everyone else finished, Maria pressed the canteen back into Dina’s hands and told her the rest was hers.

The night was cold enough to freeze Dina’s eyelashes together, but the day dawned with sunlight bright enough to thaw them. Robin cried silent tears in the circle of Dina’s arms. Dina could feel her back spasm even beneath all their layers. She didn’t know how Robin would work today, but she’d have to find a way. The Rattlers had pulled Mark’s mother out two nights prior, and now she strained and snarled on the end of a chain at the edge of town.

Instead of being marched out to the fields that morning, they were shackled and escorted down Main Street.

Chad had been stripped naked to his waist, his bound wrists stretched overhead on an old light post. Dina’s dread compounded at the sight of him like that. She knew only pain awaited him, and his pain would be shared with all of Jackson.

At least the children weren’t brought out, though Dina couldn’t guess what they would hear only half a block away.

It wasn’t Jim but Tank that paced around Chad, flicking a bullwhip behind him like a snake.

“Chad here was caught with a weapon.” Tank reached into his pocket to pull out a small knife, leaning close to Chad to sneer, “What were you gonna do with this little thing?”

Chad didn’t reply. He rested his head against the light post. Dina wondered if he’d given up. With Bonnie dead, maybe he had. Dina hoped he’d managed to kill at least one of the Rattlers. One less for the rest of them to worry about.

“Remember this next time one of you thinks about escaping because next time you’ll all share the punishment!”

Tank paced back, flicked the whip, and brought it against Chad’s back. Chad screamed.

“Not so quiet now!” Tank laughed.

With every blow, the skin of Chad’s back opened, he screamed, and he shook. Finally, Jim shouted, “Alright, man, we get it! He’s gonna to die before we hang him.”

Tank stopped with sweat on his brow, his face pulled in a grimace. He wiped the whip clean as he coiled it up to hook into his belt. With a nod, he said, “Raise him up.”

They turned Chad around and yanked him up by his wrists until his toes rested on a tiny platform nailed into the post. They tied him like that in full view of Jackson’s front gate. At least it was out of view of the daycare, but fuck, how was that a realistic consolation?

Jackson’s citizens were led back to their pens and fed for the first time in over a day. They were silent other than a few quiet sobs. The Rattlers had broken them today.

“Enjoy your rest,” Danielle sneered.

It was warm in their pen; the sunlight shone directly into one corner, and every one of them huddled within that sunlit patch. There, with more physical comfort than she’d had in a week and more emotional turmoil than ever, Dina slept.

* * *

The caramel was hard, and it stuck to her front teeth even after they sank into the firm crisp apple below. Dina closed her eyes and savored every bite. She even ate the pit, chewing the bitter seeds to pulp between her molars. Then she licked her sticky fingertips clean.

“Shanah tovah, Dina,” Talia said, her smile gentle. She leaned close to fold Dina into a hug, rubbing her nose against Dina’s. Dina reveled in the happy touch and the safety Talia invoked in her.

Then in a moment, Talia’s smile faded, her gaze darted away, and she leaned back to wrap an arm around her own chest protectively. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Hurt and shame descended on Dina, and she was twelve years old again, wanting to cry because she’d lit a fire when Talia’s unpredictable paranoia dictated they shouldn’t take the risk. “I wasn’t…”

“You got complacent.”

Dina raised her head from her knees and glanced up at Talia, who perched on the counter of one of their longest-stayed camps. It was the upstairs of an old coffee shop, chosen because the windows allowed a panoramic view of their surroundings. They stayed here for several months, waiting out the snows that blanketed their way forward.

Dina had warred between hating how cold and hungry she’d been and how good it was not to be running. Yet the longer they remained, the more Talia’s paranoia turned her into a version of her sister that Dina feared. Talia’s fear leeched into Dina and made her fear every moment of staying, certain that they would be caught with every passing day. A part of her was equally terrified that Talia would finally leave her or that Talia’s paranoia would turn on her too.

It wasn’t until Dina was living in Jackson that she realized it had never been one specific person or group that Talia feared. It had just been everyone.

Without thinking, Dina knew there was a snare set downstairs, and if she planned to go out, she’d have to edge around it. Talia would be pissed at her if she disturbed it—whether she was caught in it or not.

“You can’t stop moving. How many times have we talked about this?”

“It’s my home,” Dina said. She wanted to scream out her defense, but all she could do was whisper.

“Your home is your family. And if your family won’t take your safety seriously, then they aren’t your family.”

“I followed her too. I can’t do that anymore. I have JJ.”

Talia tilted her head, her gaze sharp behind the wide lenses of her glasses. “Kids are fucking burdens. You were a burden. Why do you think Mom died?”

“For me,” Dina admitted quietly. A burden. It was the worst kind of insult Talia had ever leveled at her, and it had left a scar every time. For years, Dina fixated on being useful, helpful, proving herself necessary. As if being necessary would prevent her from being left behind by anyone she loved.

“Why do you think they hurt me? They’ll hurt you too. We talked about this, Dina. You stopped, and they found you.”

Then Dina saw Ellie striding through the snow outside, and everything crashed into her at once: relief and love and jubilation and deep, pulsing dread. Ellie could fix anything, Ellie was safety and love and peace, but something told Dina that Ellie was in imminent danger. She tried to say Ellie’s name, tried to call out to her, to beg Talia to warn Ellie about the trap downstairs. Her voice was gone. Dina struggled to rise, but she couldn’t do more than inch towards the window. Ellie didn’t see her, wouldn’t look up at her.

Everything froze except the sound of Ellie striding through the snow, opening the door downstairs, and her loping gait below them. Dina tried to scream, tried to scramble down the steps, but she was frozen as she listened to Ellie approach the trap. Not a snare, but a trap mine. She knew what would happen to Ellie if she set it off, and the horror of it rose high and sharp.

The bomb went off, shaking the entire building, and the only sound that remained after the deafening explosion was Ellie’s shriek of pain—

Then her voice finally came back in a keening cry. “ _Ellie!_ ”

Dina jerked upright as Cat shook her shoulder, her own scream waking her. She sobbed, holding her chest, certain that Ellie was dead. She was so heavily embedded in her dream that her reality was surreal. She sat up and let the weight of the dream fall away as the weight of this truth fell across her shoulders. For a moment, she wasn’t sure which was worse.

Jim stood in front of the cage doors, and his brow was drawn as he studied her.

She was still shaking off the aching horror of the dream as she stepped out of the cage and accepted shackles across her wrists.

Jim led her to the Tipsy Bison today. By the glimpse she caught of the kitchen, this was where the Rattlers were storing their supplies. Dina and Jim were alone. He sat down across the small table from her and watched her eat the generous meal that had been left out for her. The meat was gristly and poorly seasoned, but these were calories, and her body demanded the fat with the meat.

“Whiskey?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Fair enough.” He pocketed his flask and tipped his chair on its back two legs, studying her. “You must have liked dick at some point given that kid.”

Despite herself—and the blasé way she’d imagined taking advantage of this situation—she shrank back in fear. She remembered what that man was trying to do her mother when she’d stabbed him. She remembered the threat of it, how Talia had returned to their camp and tried to hide her wounds after their mother had been murdered. Talia had fallen apart after that.

That fucking nightmare… Talia hadn’t blamed Dina for her rape or their mother’s death; she’d blamed herself. She’d been caught, attacked, and their mother had died protecting her. Talia suffered as much from her self-blame as she did her fears. It seemed so obvious now, but it had taken Dina years of reflection to realize the only people to be blamed in that situation were the fucks that attacked them.

“How is JJ? How are the kids?”

“They’re fine. I answered your question, now answer mine. Do you still like dick?”

“I… It’s never been about that.”

“What’s it about then?” In the wake of Dina’s confused silence, he snapped his fingers. “You’re one of them…pansexuals.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means you’ll fuck anything.”

“That isn’t—”

“I could have you right now, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Jim, we were friends, weren’t we?”

His smile stretched, and he gave her a long look before shrugging. “Not worth it. My girl would cut my dick off if I did. If she found out, at least.”

He was playing with her, getting off on her fear and his own power. Her fear alone would be enough to make him happy now, but as soon as she stopped believing the threat of his violence, he’d do something to make sure she did. Talia had warned her about men like him.

She wondered if he’d be distracted by her curiosity. Her burning need for more information rose higher than her instincts for self-preservation. This might be her only chance to find out more about the truth of what had happened to Ellie.

“Were you a part of the group in Santa Barbara?”

Jim paused and cocked his head. “Yeah. Not that it’s your fucking business.”

“Did you have a woman named Abby in your group?”

“Abby? No. We had an Annie and Alex.” His brow gathered, then raised high. “We had a prisoner named Abby. Abby the Ox. I wouldn’t remember but she was fucking huge. I won a whole shank when I bet on her in a pit fight.” He seemed to speak to himself when he said, “Was that at the same time?”

“What happened to her?”

He was completely off-guard, pondering whatever information just occurred to him. “Don’t know. Probably dead. I think she got strung up for trying to escape or attacking a guard. Why do you…” He stared. “Was that why? She killed forty of us for one fucking prisoner?”

“I don’t know.”

“You keep saying that, but she was your wife.”

“Ellie’s never been a big sharer.”

“Abby,” he murmured quietly to himself, thoroughly distracted by Dina’s information. “How did they know each other?”

“She never told me.” Dina hesitated. “Are the Fireflies really in Southern California?”

“Aren’t you a curious beaver today? Yeah. They boat into LA to trade with us every few weeks, but some of us have been jostling to sell them out to FEDRA once we nail down a full contract.”

“Are they still looking for a cure?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

And that was the extent of Jim’s volunteered information. She hoped he’d take her to the daycare again, but he only walked her back to the pen. There he offered her a smile. “Nice chat, Dina. Hope you enjoyed your food.” When she turned her back to walk into the cage, he shoved her hard. Dina landed on her hands and knees, gasping in shock. Jim’s cackle should have sparked her anger. Instead, she got to her feet, wiped off her palms, and stepped into the circle of Robin’s arms.

That night, Dina refused her portion of stew and watched the other women chew at the bones their guards tossed into the cage.

* * *

The next day, they gave Tommy the task of dragging a cart across the field. The cart was heavy, and the ground was wet. The Rattlers laughed when Tommy fell in the mud and laughed even harder when he got up to dig out the wheels without a word of complaint.

He raised his gaze and met Dina’s long look with his good eye. Dina paused in her task, loitering nearby. Connor had sent her over here to move a bag of sand, knowing it was too heavy for her to lift. She wasn’t sure what Tommy’s stare was about, but his attention didn’t make her rush as she dragged the heavy bag across the mud.

When a Rattler walked by, Tommy slammed into the woman and carried her into the garden, dropping them both out of sight behind a large planter. Dina moved quickly, packing a handful of mud into the woman’s mouth and nose as Tommy punched her face and throat until she was dead.

He pulled a knife from the woman’s boot and handed it to Dina. Dina slipped it into her sleeve.

“Go,” Tommy hissed when she hesitated. He took the larger weapon, a crowbar, and held it against his thigh as he limped back to his cart.

Dina ducked back through the large planters to take her place back in line with the other women. With her heart in her throat, she looked for Connor, but the Rattler was out of sight. Hopefully he’d forgotten he gave her the task with the sand.

A patrolling Rattler found his dead comrade within a minute.

“Erin,” he gasped. Then he traced Tommy’s tracks, sprinted at Tommy, and turned his rifle to strike Tommy with the butt. Tommy killed him with the crowbar in a shockingly devastating blow, but that was as far as he got when another two Rattlers went at him with their rifle butts.

It hurt her to see and hear that. The last time she’d spoken to him had been in anger. She wished there would be time to say more, but she had no hope for it.

Jackson’s citizens were called away from work within a few minutes, all packed into their cages early and without food or water. Dina kept her gaze down, conscious of the hard line of the knife against her side, thankful that her coat concealed it.

Why the hell had Tommy taken that risk? For a fucking knife? He killed two Rattlers, yes, but two didn’t put them any closer to freedom. Was he too angry to think critically? But he’d known the woman was carrying a knife in her boot, something the other Rattlers might not realize. They wouldn’t know to search their prisoners for a concealed weapon. Why the fuck had Tommy chosen her to carry it?

She wouldn’t squander this opportunity.

* * *

When Jim came to talk to her, Dina was sure the gig was up. They must have tortured the truth out of Tommy and had come to do the same to Dina. Even as he dragged up a chair and talked to her through the chain link instead of pulling Dina out to walk her downtown, she was sure he was going to kill her.

Jim seemed to take great pleasure in pulling out one of Ellie’s journals and showing it to Dina.

“You know, when you mentioned Abby, I started thinking these stupid journals might tell me something.” He tossed the journal in the mud. “It’s like reading a retard’s wet dream. All these cutsie pictures and boo-hooing over nightmares, and there’s fucking nothing. The poetry is fucking awful. She didn’t even draw a nudie of you. I’m curious. Did you two actually fuck?”

Dina clenched her teeth. The feeling of wrongness that had come over her when she read Ellie’s journals was nothing on this asshole doing the same. Dina’s emotions got the better of her, and she didn’t hide her anger, something that made Jim give her an oily smile.

“You know something though? I asked around about Abby. Apparently she’s one of the Fireflies now.” He laughed. “Can’t believe she could look you in the eye and promise forever when she has pussy halfway across the country. She killed so many people for a piece of ass. She kill anyone for you?”

Shit. Dina had been right. She saw Maria glance at her out of the corner of her eye but didn’t draw attention to that.

“Abby’s alive?”

“Korah saw her a few months ago on a trading run in LA.” He cocked his head. “Here’s what I don’t get. Why’d you ask about the Fireflies finding the cure?”

Dina looked away.

“FEDRA’s never paid so much for a bounty, especially just over information.” He furrowed his brow. “See, I asked Mina, and she told me that one of our prisoners said the red-headed woman had to be dead because she had a bite on her hand. That’s why we never looked for her. Dina, is your wife immune?”

Dina remained silent, at least until Jim drew his revolver and cocked it, pointing it at them indiscriminately.

“Yes,” Maria said sharply. A murmur rose among Jackson’s women. Robin’s grip tightened on Dina’s shoulder. Even their two guards, Danielle and Connor, had stopped talking and approached to listen to the exchange.

Jim pulled the barrel up and cackled. “Are you all fucking stupid? _Immune?_ ”

Dina shot a look to Maria, who nodded jerkily, turning her gaze back to the threat of the revolver.

“I saw her breathe spores, Jim.”

His smile faded as he looked at Dina. Funny that that would be enough to convince him. “Fuck, if that’s true… Can you imagine what we could have gotten playing the Fireflies and FEDRA off each other?” He shook his head and scratched his temple with the barrel of the gun. “God fucking damn.” Then he grinned again. “Can you imagine what FEDRA’s doing to her? Cutting a piece off a little at a time and studying it. Maybe there _is_ karma.”

Jim got to his feet, released the hammer, and holstered the weapon. “When they come out with the cure, are you going to be relieved to have it or sad your wife died for it? Food for thought.” He winked, turned, and whistled his entire walk back.

* * *

In all of this, Dina had to wonder…

Why did Ellie let Abby go?

Surely she found her. Surely she fought her too. Yet after all that, after abandoning her family to do it, she’d let Abby walk away. Why? Had she lost the fight and Abby let Ellie go a third time? None of it made sense.

Dina gave herself only a few minutes to turn that thought over in her mind. This wasn’t a finite numerated system she could guess with a map and a radio. The possibilities were too numerous to even guess.

No more with this quiet about the past bullshit. If Ellie came back, Dina would sit her down and make her spell out every moment of her past so these surprises couldn’t sneak up on either one of them again.

Fuck.

She’d just put an ‘if’ on Ellie’s return.

* * *

Sometimes Dina gazed across the muddy field at Jackson’s church and imagined all the happiness that had happened there in the years past. It helped her see beyond their current suffering. Less than one hundred yards from their cage was the place that she and Ellie had wed beneath a chuppah the year prior. Funny that Jim had brought out the memory.

Dina touched her wedding band and closed her eyes. Even after the horror of the last week, she could find warmth in her memory. It had been a perfect afternoon after a perfect month of happy planning and closeness she’d never dared hope for.

And the ceremony itself…

It wasn’t like Dina thought Ellie didn’t want to marry her, but when a woman’s proposal included the words: “Well, I’m not against it”, doubts did tend to creep in. While Dina didn’t hold fast to traditional Jewish faith, for as long as she remembered she’d envisioned an actual wedding ceremony: chuppah, ring exchange, breaking glass, the seven blessings. And, while she was at it, a happily ever after.

As far as Dina was concerned, she’d already gotten the latter when Ellie walked back into her life.

Dina didn’t think Ellie would be into the wedding ceremony. Despite herself, Dina could see the traditions through the eyes of a skeptic. She told herself she had no right to be disappointed. It would be enough that Ellie wanted to marry her in the eyes of their community. It would be more than enough to have her entire family participate.

Dina put a lot of mental effort into downplaying how important the ceremony would be for her.

Yet on the day of their wedding, Ellie was clean and neat, in new jeans and her nicest shirt, and she’d taken Dina’s hands beneath the chuppah—Tommy and Maria standing with her as James and Robin stood with Dina—and smiled as their family recited the seven blessings. When they exchanged rings, tears rose to Ellie’s eyes. And when they stomped on the glass wrapped in cloth, she laughed and pulled Dina close to kiss her, murmuring, “Mazel tov, babe.”

She was perfect.

The day was wonderful. JJ was on his best behavior—though it helped that the ceremony took less than twenty minutes—and almost all of Jackson turned out for this less-than-Jackson-traditional wedding. Hell, even Tommy laid off the booze and was all smiles, occupying JJ and making light, polite conversation all afternoon.

The rest of the day was spent eating and dancing, until Greg—drunk and happy, his arm draped over Ellie’s shoulder—started calling for Ellie to play them a few tunes. Most of the patrollers started chanting with him, which raised a laugh and cheer from everyone else.

“All right, all right!” Ellie grinned and accepted the guitar he practically shoved in her hands. “Someone get this man water before he passes out!”

Ellie sighed as she smoothed her fingers over the guitar neck. She nodded a few times, and Dina could imagine her brain conjuring up the chords and notes and fingerings. Ellie spent much of her time with music dissecting songs and figuring her way around chords she was unable to form. Dina knew her well enough to notice when Ellie became frustrated with herself—for her lack of fingers or her sensitivity to sounds and smells or her nightmares and occasional flashback—but that frustration wasn’t in her that day.

“My wife asked me in all seriousness what song would characterize us best. I used to think ‘Take on Me’ was our song, but the lyrics ‘I’ll be gone in a day or two’ probably aren’t the best for our wedding day.”

That earned a few chuckles, and Ellie offered Dina a soft smile. “So I’ve been working my ass off—with a broken collarbone, thank you, on this one. For you, Dina.”

With a long breath in preparation, Ellie began to play, and she glanced up at Dina with a soft smile as she sang ‘You Make Loving Fun’. Then, shit, Ellie teared up and her voice caught when she sang,

 _“I won’t break the spell.  
It won’t be different, not how we feel.  
You make loving fun._  
 _And I don’t have to tell you that you’re the only one._ ”

Dina had started crying too.

For being so spare with her words, Ellie knew the things that counted. And as cheesy as Ellie singing a Fleetwood Mac song at their wedding, Dina loved it, loved what it meant about how Ellie felt about her. Dina just loved Ellie. Dina had loved Jesse at one point, cared deeply for him through it all, but Ellie had always been the one she’d been in love with, the one she was meant to be with for the rest of their lives.

That night, as they snuggled together in a decadently decorated room in Jackson’s hotel, Ellie removed her ring to study the engraving within it. Dina had gone so far as to have the inscription written in Hebrew. Dina’s ring was engraved with two words: ‘Always ten’.

Ellie stroked her fingertips across Dina’s back as she turned her ring over in her right hand. “Does it say, ‘Whipped?’”

“No.”

“How about, ‘Forever and always’?”

“No, but that’s a good one.”

“‘My heart is yours’?”

“Nope. But it is.” Dina leaned close to press a soft kiss to Ellie’s mouth.

“The date?”

“No, doofus.”

“Does it say, ‘doofus’?”

“I totally should have put that on your ring.”

“‘Return if found’?”

Dina only rolled her eyes at that guess.

“Does it actually say something?”

“Yes, it says something.”

“‘For better or worse’?”

“I never liked that vow.”

“Why? It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Sure, but it’s not romantic. It’s like…worse is still better with the person you love.”

“Okay, glass half full,” Ellie replied with a chuckle. “I’ll remind you that next time I get food poisoning.”

Dina kissed Ellie again, deeper this time. “Less guessing, more consummation.”

“Didn’t we already consummate?”

“Ellie, I wanna bang my wife again.”

Ellie offered a grin and laugh. “Oh, is that what the ring says?”

“No, stupid.” As Dina descended on her with kisses, she demanded, “Put that back on.”

“Is that what it—”

The rest of Ellie’s question was overtaken by laughter as Dina climbed on her and pretended to smother her with a pillow.

* * *

Dina stirred from her doze when she felt someone settle against her shoulder. It was Cat, who slipped her fingertips between Dina’s and closed their hands together. The touch felt good, grounding.

“I should have realized,” Cat said. “Especially after you asked me about her arm. The first time I kissed her, she acted like I’d set her horse on fire. She was hysterical. She tried to say she’d never been kissed before, but she must have been scared she’d infect me.”

“Maybe.”

“Did she tell you?”

“Of course not. Her mask broke while we were in spores in Seattle. I thought I was going to lose her, but she shoved me away when I tried to give her my mask. She pulled hers all the way off and said she wasn’t infected.” Dina shook her head. “Have you seen someone get infected by spores?”

“No.”

“Usually they start with this deep, painful cough. It’s crazy how fast they’ll turn that way. It must sting too because the crying starts before the coughing gets bad. It’s awful. But Ellie acted like she didn’t feel any of it. She just said, ‘I’m not coughing. I’m not infected.’”

“What did you do?”

“We ran from a horde.”

“Shit,” Cat said with an abrupt chuckle. “No surprise. I ran a group patrol with her once, and everything that could go wrong did go wrong.”

Then Dina realized she’d overlooked something. “She did tell me. I’d forgotten. The first time we were together, she said she’d burned her own arm because she got jumped and bitten by an infected. I didn’t believe her.”

“It’s hard to believe,” Robin said quietly. Dina glanced over at her. “Is that why FEDRA wanted her? I wish you’d told us, Dina. You could have trusted us.”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” She felt dull with grief and fear.

“Do you think she’s still alive?” Cat asked softly.

“I have to.”

“Do you think she’ll save us?”

“I think we’re on our own this time, Cat.”

* * *

The next morning, they were shackled and marched down Main Street. The men and women of Jackson were all shoved to their knees in the mud as Jim strode back and forth along the column.

“I guess I took for granted that you all would know why this is happening, but I’ll say it. That red-headed bitch blew through our town, killed half of us, and released our prisoners. She had no good reason, gave no warning, and didn’t give a fuck about any of us.”

“I was the one who sent her!” Tommy exclaimed. He was so swollen and bruised he was nearly unrecognizable. “Kill me and let the rest of them go. They don’t want no trouble.”

Jim turned on him with a sneer. “That’s too fuckin’ easy, old man. She fucking murdered us for no goddamn reason. Or for fucking Abby, I don’t know. Why the fuck would I do anything but pay her back in every way I can?”

“What do you want?” Tommy asked.

“What I want is for everyone in this town to hate her the way I do.”

Maria took Dina’s hand. Disbelieving silence descended on the group. As if the Rattlers could blame their evil on Ellie, as if any of this wasn’t personal to each and every one of them now. Then Cat spoke clearly.

“Fuck you!”

Jim whirled around. His gaze caught on Dina, then Cat, and he strode through the women to crouch down in front of Cat. “What did you say?”

“If Ellie came through your group, you deserved it. She’s helped everyone in Jackson, including you, you goddamn pig.”

“Was she fucking you too? Dina, Abby, you.” His grin was wide. “For a scrawny ugly bitch, she got a lot of pussy.” He slapped Cat hard enough to send her into the mud. Blood dripped down her nose and stained her jeans. Robin cradled Cat against her legs, raising a hand in supplication, but Cat only bared her bloodied teeth.

When Jim rose to his full height, he shouted, “The only fucking reason we’re here is because of her. Remember that! She’s the reason I’m doing this!”

Jim turned her gaze among all the Jackson citizens and seemed to balk at what he saw. Then he firmed and grabbed Tommy by the arm. Tommy fought back until Jim struck his left knee, then he yelped and collapsed. He stared at the infected—Doc Jons—that snapped and screamed at the end of its chain. Jim yanked his shirt down and grabbed a handful of Tommy’s hair to pull his neck aside.

“Okay,” Jim said.

Tank reeled Doc Jons to him, taking a firm hold onto the ring that circled his neck, holding the infected at arm’s length. He staggered forward, laughing as Doc Jons took him off balance. “Hungry, ain’t he?”

“Stop, please!” someone shouted from Jackson’s crowd.

Tommy didn’t plead. He didn’t cry. He just watched as Doc Jons approached. When the infected closed its teeth on his shoulder, Tommy hissed. Jim and his brother pulled them apart before Doc Jons could tear into Tommy. Jim kicked Tommy’s good leg out, and Tommy fell to his knees in the road. A moment later, they’d snapped the chain around his neck and used it to drag him down the street and out of sight.

In all of it, Dina was numb. She’d known Tommy for years; he’d been a constant in Jackson. And for all that she put blame on him for Ellie’s abandonment, she still loved him. He’d done so much for her these last months. And he was dead in one of the worst ways possible. He’d traded his life for the knife in Dina’s coat.

Dina looked at Maria through the tears in her eyes, but Maria’s eyes were dry. Her lips had pinched. The only emotion she betrayed was her firm grip on Dina’s hand.

* * *

Tank made some big speech while they crouched uncomfortably in the mud and concrete of Main Street. Dina didn’t hear a word of it. She was conscious of the knife in her coat and wondered if she could have done anything with it to save Tommy from his infection. Every scenario she could picture ended in her death.

She had to be patient and hope that a viable opportunity presented itself to her. It wouldn’t do Tommy any good to get herself killed now.

Finally, they were forced to their feet to march back to their cages. Danielle yanked Dina out of the line wordlessly and shoved her in front of her with muttered curses. Danielle steered her back down the street beneath Chad’s rotting corpse, raising the crows that had descended on his body to feed. The smell made Dina double over to retch. Danielle coughed and shoved at her impatiently. Dina was still swallowing bile when she walked into the Tipsy Bison.

She wasn’t surprised to see Jim waiting for her. He was sitting on the bar top, swinging his legs like a goddamn child. He nodded over to the plate of food on the table. She couldn’t bear to eat it.

“Ungrateful bitch,” he muttered.

“I feel sick.”

“Fine.” He swiped the plate from the table and ate it himself. Dina was conscious of the hard line of the knife in her coat, but Jim seemed to take her flinch as confirmation of fear of what he’d done that day. Jim had Ellie’s revolver, and Danielle carried a pistol in the holster on her thigh. She’d only kill one of them if she struck now, but it was tempting. This was the best opportunity she’d gotten so far.

With his mouth full of food, Jim said, “You didn’t defend your own wife.”

Silence wasn’t an option. “You know how I feel already.”

“All of this is her fault. You can’t deny that.”

Dina shook her head, turning to meet Jim’s gaze. “What’s your goal, Jim?”

His confused stare made her incredulous.

Their crops, their herds, their electricity… All of it was in shambles. The Rattlers were tearing through the minimal excess they’d had as winter ended. They should be planting new crops, working the fields and greenhouses for their next harvest, releasing the cattle they’d kept close in winter, and sending a team up for maintenance at the dam. Instead, they were plowing and planting things that would never grow in their soil, and the cattle were getting sick crammed up in Jackson’s tiny paddock. But hell, the Rattlers had eaten half the herd in a little over a week.

“What’s the point? Are you going to kill us? This situation isn’t sustainable.”

“We’ve had our eye on expanding, but this place is a fucking shithole. Hell, as soon as your supplies run out, we’re trekking back home to SoCal.” His smile was wide and cruel. “By ‘we’, I mean all of us. And those of you that don’t make it, well, we only need strong backs at home. And if you think this is bad, wait ‘til we get to California.”

He studied her. Dina must not have hidden her disbelief well because his expression turned ugly. “You know when my brother recognized her? She bought chocolate off of him, talked about how her kid was going to love it. Chocolate for her son, looking happy as a clam after all those people she murdered. All the time I lived here, and that bitch was so fucking happy, living her life free of the consequences of what she did in Santa Barbara. When we realized FEDRA had a bounty out for her, it was like the world was giving us the ultimate retribution.”

Free from consequences. Happy. Dina knew it was a flimsy excuse for their evil, but that excuse hurt.

“She’ll come after you.”

“Come on!” Jim actually looked frustrated, waving a hand around with his shout. He laughed incredulously. “She’s dead! And if by some miracle she isn’t, we’ll kill her when she comes back. And I can guarantee that FEDRA was kinder than we’ll be.”

The door opened beside Danielle, and another face peered through. “Jim?”

“Yeah?” he asked, his gaze still on Dina.

“Need you down at the gates.”

“Take her back to the women’s pen.”

Danielle rolled her eyes as Jim left, as always annoyed to be ordered around. When she turned around to take Dina’s arm, Dina grabbed her mouth and shoved the knife into her throat. Dina cradled Danielle close as the woman gagged against her hand and yelped when Dina drove the knife in again. The hot scent of her blood was strong.

It took precious moments to find the keys in Danielle’s pockets and unlock herself. Dina checked Danielle’s pistol and shoved it in her waistband. She put the keys in her pocket and scrambled for the storeroom.

“Hey, Jim?” someone called from the back.

He died in less than ten seconds to Dina’s blade. There was some ammunition on the desk, which she swiped. She relieved the man of his rifle and pulled it over her shoulder. Then she saw the pistols, all cleaned and ready for use and shoved them into a backpack with a couple boxes of ammo.

As she approached the back door of the Tipsy Bison, Dina weighed her options. She could go to the daycare, take JJ, and get the fuck out of Jackson, but… There were other children, and Robin and James, and she didn’t know the patrols on that side of town. There was only one guard to the women, and he was all that stood between Dina and releasing the other women. With numbers and a few guns, they could make a dent in these fucks, enough to get all the kids out safely.

No matter what Talia had tried to instill in her, Jackson wasn’t Dina’s burden; it was her home.

* * *

Connor was sitting with his feet propped on the fence, his arms wrapped around himself as he dozed in the sun. He didn’t even flinch when Dina cut his throat. She scrambled to unlock the cages. The women were crowded up to the gate, waiting for her to get the damn thing open.

They divided up quickly, the women who had been on patrol quick to grab a weapon. They emptied Dina’s backpack, divvying out ammunition quietly.

“The children,” Dina said. “I need a group to go with me to get the kids. After that, we can split and free the men.”

Then the radio by the fire barrel crackled, and Jim’s loud voice blared out, _“Dina, you fucking cunt! You have five minutes to get to the daycare before I shoot your fucking son in his fucking head!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm choosing to ignore Ellie's non-aiming reload animation for her revolver in TLOU2.


	9. Shadow of home

The subway was pure horror. Though she hadn’t worn a constraining mask, Ellie took deep gulps of cold, clean air when they walked back out into the darkness of night. She was still shaken by how close she’d come to dying to a bloater.

Fucking Abby had saved her ass more than once that night. From breaking a bloater in half to poorly quoting an old movie that Joel would have loved…

Ellie could still picture Abby’s expression in that run-down apartment. Her furrowed brow, concentrated stare, mouth pulled into a tight line. Of all the strangers in that room, Abby had been her only hope for her family.

_“I’m taking you home.”_

“Soldier to the right,” Lev hissed beside her. Ellie flinched at the sound of his voice.

At least there was no moonlight. Abby yanked the chain link fence open so they could slip into the shipyard adjacent to the subway. Ellie had no fucking clue where they were, but the fact the ocean had been so close all along was disconcerting. She didn’t want to think about that wide-open space around her, much less the fact they’d just walked under the fucking ocean to escape the QZ.

When Abby and Lev pulled aside a tarp to uncover their truck, Ellie climbed into the backseat with Al. It was then that she reached into her pocket and stilled. Her fingertips traced over the leather cord and trinket, and she had to fight her emotions for the thousandth time that night. Ellie withdrew the bracelet and fastened it to her wrist.

It shouldn’t affect her. It was a goddamn thing. But it was a thing that Dina had given her.

It shouldn’t have been a comfort, any of her old clothes, but putting them on had made her feel human for the first time in months. Even if she was exhausted, soaked, and freezing, the world had color again.

Abby took the driver’s seat, and she looked over her shoulder as she backed the truck up. She was as big as Ellie remembered. Aside from a deep scar on her jaw and the indents left by her mask, she looked no different from Ellie’s vague recollection: braided, huge, and determined.

What the fuck had made her turn on the Fireflies?

When Abby met Ellie’s gaze, Ellie was startled the intensity of her eye contact. She felt startled by everything. “We have to get out of here, however we can. Okay? Trust me. I’m taking you home.”

It wasn’t like Ellie had a choice.

“There’s ammo in the bag by your feet. Take what you can use.”

Beside Abby, Lev had a bow over his shoulder and a quiver by his feet. She wanted his weapon but couldn’t voice her desire. Ellie dug through the bag, sorting the supplies quickly, choosing the semi-auto rifle. The black woman beside her—Al, the other Firefly that turned her gun from Abby to the fucker that dragged Ellie back to that apartment—traded her pistol for the worn revolver in the bag.

Ellie checked the chamber of her chosen rifle and counted the rounds in the magazine. She could do a little damage with this if needed. With Lev’s bow… Well, that would be better.

* * *

They were on an overpass when they saw lights from the first FEDRA trucks. They were driving down the road parallel but below them, but it was clear by the vehicles’ speed that the two trucks were following them. “Shit!” Abby gasped, and the truck accelerated as she wove between stopped vehicles.

“How did they find us?”

“Our lights. They must have guessed we’d come out the BART.” Al’s voice was sharp with fear. “There’s a FEDRA base in Oakland so it didn’t take long to get soldiers nearby.”

“How big is that base?”

“I don’t know.”

“Al!”

“It’s been years, Abby! When I left, there were just a couple military trucks. It was hardly manned.”

“And from the city?”

“No risk of that, not tonight. They’d have to ferry over trucks or take the long way around.”

“Any other bases?”

“The Valley. It’s a farming community, but there are a lot of vehicles there. We should avoid 580.”

“What road are we on?” Lev asked, craning his head to find a sign.

“Five-eighty.”

Abby let out a startled laugh. As they sped below another underpass, Al pointed between the seats, indicating an exchange on the right. “Get off here and go north!”

Ellie leaned on the door hard, her gut swooping unpleasantly as Abby hit the brakes. Their tires squealed as the truck skidded across the freeway. Then Abby punched the gas and threw them all back into their seats as the truck sped back in the opposite direction up another freeway.

They seemed to be going back in the same direction they’d come, but Al was certain this was the way. The FEDRA trucks managed to enter the freeway just behind them. Clearly FEDRA’s vehicles were more powerful than their truck; they made up ground quickly despite Abby’s reckless driving.

Ellie had enough room to rest her rifle on the open back window, but emptying a magazine didn’t deter their pursuit. At least they weren’t shooting back.

“Lev? Give me your bow. And an arrow.”

Lev shot her one suspicious look before he did as she asked. She put together the arrow with explosives and a small canister. Ellie steadied herself on the seat and took a long breath. The back window wasn’t big enough for this. Ellie rolled down her window, bringing with it the sound of wind and the whizzing zing of every stationary car they passed.

She felt dizzy at the rush of noise. Ellie shook her head and focused past the overwhelming openness around her.

“Al, don’t let me fall out. Abby, don’t run me into a fucking car.”

“Shit, Ellie—”

Al grabbed her around the waist as Ellie swung herself out of the window and drew the bow. She loosed the arrow on pure instinct.

The arrow hit the truck’s front tire, exploded, and sent the truck tumbling sideways, sliding hard into the concrete barrier of the freeway…then into empty space. Another set of headlights remained. When Al dragged Ellie back in the truck, she was struck by a wave of exhaustion so heavy she felt nauseous.

The truck’s tire blew within a few seconds, and they side-swiped a long row of cars. Al clutched her close; Ellie couldn’t find it in her to protest. She hadn’t had this kind of human contact in so long that even in this fucked up situation, she needed the embrace for the few seconds Al gave her.

“Okay?” Al asked.

No. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“That was cool,” Lev exclaimed from the front seat.

Abby kept them going for another mile before the vehicle fishtailed and the power went out. Ultimately, they rolled to an anti-climactic stop with the remaining FEDRA truck coming to a stop a hundred feet behind them.

“Fuck!” Abby slammed her fists against the steering wheel.

“What’s Plan B?” Lev asked, ducking below the bright lights that illuminated their interior.

“They won’t shoot us up,” Al murmured, but she’d ducked low too. “I’m sure they want Ellie alive.”

Abby checked her pistol; despite her frustration earlier, she seemed calm. Lev raised his brows as he exchanged a look with her. “Think we can take their truck?”

“I can get behind that plan. Lev, with me.”

“I can—”

“Ellie, you’re dead on your feet for good reason. I need you and Al to clean up any soldiers we flush out, okay?”

Abby was right. Ellie’s mind stirred into the dark concern about what the fuck she’d been robbed of in that last surgery. Just Abby’s eye contact made her flinch in fear. But she couldn’t focus on that right now. She had to get out of this alive before she took stock of everything she’d lost.

Al laid down some cover fire, but Abby and Lev didn’t need it. They had the cover of countless old vehicles around them to sneak up to FEDRA’s truck. Within minutes, Abby and Lev had flushed the soldiers out of their armored vehicle. Two soldiers ran up the road with their rifles down, intent on the Firefly truck despite the firefight unfolding behind them.

“I’ll get the first one.”

“I’ll take second,” Al confirmed.

All Ellie had to do was put a bullet through a soldier’s head, but he took an arrow through the throat in the same moment. Al’s shot was clean, dropping the second asshole before he could do more than look surprised.

And that was it.

They packed up their supplies and jogged back to FEDRA’s truck, which was fully fueled and whole despite the dead soldiers around it.

Al took the front seat, spreading out a map on the dash. They peeled out of their soaked footwear, but their clothes dried quickly as Abby cranked up the heat in the truck. Ellie ate the MRE Lev pressed into her hands. She felt wooden, too exhausted to be hungry, though her thirst was present and powerful. The water stored in the truck tasted sweet.

Dark exhaustion took over.

She had no choice but to sleep. Ellie dreamed of the endless darkness of that submerged subway tunnel, but it was the J Anderson CBI lab with its infinite vivisection suites.

* * *

Ellie wiped her face and winced, for a moment completely confused by these strange surroundings. She pressed a hand to her chest as she jerked her head around to take in her new reality. When she confirmed this wasn’t the lab, she dropped her head back onto the blanket under her and shivered in relief.

Lev was curled up in the bed of the truck, but Abby and Al were awake in the front seat. It was early morning by the gray light illuminating the front windshield.

For a moment, she could only stare. Abby was a surreal as the scenery outside the truck window.

Ellie climbed up to the front to crouch between the two seats. She was still so exhausted she felt nauseous, but she had enough faculty to check the map on the dash. The movement of the land beyond the window made her as sick as the reality of the gaping sky overhead.

Abby glanced over her shoulder at Ellie. “Just passed Sacramento. Seems like 80 is our best bet for a while. Are there any blocked highways in Wyoming?”

“Why are you doing this?”

Abby shot her a quick look before turning her eyes back to the road. She raised her shoulders in a shrug. “Why don’t you get some more rest?”

“What the fuck is this, Abby?”

Abby’s shoulders drew into a straight, defensive line. “I had to.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ellie, sleep. You only got an hour. But hey…” She dug in her backpack with one hand and withdrew a familiar notebook. Ellie opened it, gazing at her sketch of Jae in his orange suit. She didn’t want to touch it, yet Ellie took it in hand and stared at the haiku on the next page.

As surreal as the outer world felt, this evidence of her life in the lab was beyond disconcerting. It felt as if the lab and this world couldn’t possibly exist in the same universe.

“How did you…?”

“Apparently you didn’t need rescue.”

Ellie didn’t return Abby’s uncomfortable smile. She studied the journal in her hands before a word sprang from her too fast to consider: “Thanks.”

“Thank me when I get you to Jackson safely.”

Fuck it. Ellie was too tired to distrust anymore. Why did Abby’s motivations matter if those motivations got her back to Jackson? She felt dull with exhaustion. There was no anger, no fear, nothing but the dark need driving her home to her family.

After Ellie settled back into the bed of the truck to sleep, the two women in the front continued to talk.

“Jackson,” Al repeated in obvious disbelief. “You really did know where she was. All along, you knew there was an immune person alive—”

“I wasn’t lying. I’d be damning us by bringing her up. You saw what she did in that lab.”

“You never were going to bring her back to the island, were you?”

Abby was silent.

“What the fuck are we going to do after we take her home? Drive back to California, pretend we didn’t just murder Miguel for the person we were supposed to bring back with us?!”

“Honestly, I’d put my money on Ellie if we’d tried to kidnap her.”

“Abby!”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“Right thing?”

“She has a family, Al.”

“I’m sorry, don’t all those people we cut through to get her out have families too?”

“Didn’t stop you in the lab.” Abby’s tone was sharp, but she sighed and took a more even tone. “We’ll figure out a way, okay? We just have to take her to Jackson, refuel, and head back home. We’ll figure out our story on the way back.”

“And the cure?”

“Fuck the cure. If FEDRA couldn’t figure it out in the time they had her, how can you expect to?”

Al’s breath caught audibly. Then she gasped, “Fuck you, Abby.”

“You said it! You said it on the island!”

“My wife is a mediocre scientist. She… Fuck, Tara’s dead…” When Al started crying, Abby offered no comfort, but Ellie looked up to see her reach across the distance between them to squeeze Al’s shoulder.

Ellie felt the weight of Al’s grief, remembering how her flinch had turned into Tara’s death sentence. Then she remembered Tara’s threats against Dina and JJ, her sneer, her tests and torture, how she’d cut into Ellie’s brain.

Fuck Tara. Fuck Al’s grief. Fuck Al… _Allie_.

Ellie knew that name. Was it any surprise that Tara and Jae had forgotten that Ellie could hear them, let alone understand them, when they prepped her for surgery? She could remember a handful of conversations filled with their passive-aggressive barbs at each other, and every one of those conversations had featured Allie’s name one way or another.

Allie, Al was Tara’s supposedly late wife and the goddamn previous lab director. Not late then. Fuck, Ellie had thought she was done with doctors who wanted to peel her open. This FEDRA doctor had turned Firefly, but she was a monster if she’d run the CBI lab until her defection. Now that all the incestuous little lines were connecting in Ellie’s head, sleep felt far away.

* * *

She dreamed that Abby sat under the red lights of the theater with Dina in her lap, and in the dream, Abby cut Dina’s throat. Dina was awake and heavily pregnant, her terrified gaze fixed on Ellie.

Ellie gagged as she woke, gasping and shaking. She wiped tears from her cheeks and stared at them in incomprehension. When Ellie raised her gaze, she stared at the woman asleep across from her. The Abby that slept with a soft expression on her face was a completely different person than the enraged woman in the theater.

And even that enraged person in the theater had let Dina go.

Ellie’s fear eased and softened, but her anxieties remained. For a few minutes, Ellie watched Abby as she dozed propped up on the side of the truck. Despite that Enforcer uniform, she looked young, almost delicate like this.

Al was propped up against the boxes stacked in the back of the truck. She varied her time watching Abby contemplatively and studying the open laptop resting on her thighs. She was a pretty woman, her face framed around expressive brows and sharp, intelligent eyes. Ellie had read Tara and Jae’s intent in their manner, but Ellie had seen nothing of their disdain in any of their interactions.

Then Al saw her looking. Instead of looking through Ellie, she smiled, and the expression softened her features to pure kindness.

When the truck struck something hard enough to jolt them, Abby awoke with a gasp, clutching her neck. Al’s attention immediately shifted.

“Bad dream?” Al asked, resting a hand on Abby’s thigh. Gone was the bitterness they’d turned on each other before Ellie slept.

The touch raised Ellie’s curiosity despite herself, especially when Abby didn’t seem self-conscious about it. There was something about the way to the two women regarded each other. That intimacy made Ellie uncomfortable.

So much for Al mourning her late wife.

“Yeah.” Abby winced and rolled her neck and shoulder.

“You need to eat.”

“We all do,” Abby retorted with a crooked smile. Al replied in kind, her gaze dropping from Abby’s eyes to her mouth. She patted Abby’s thigh before she released it. Al hummed softly under her breath as she sorted through one of FEDRA’s boxes. She passed an MRE to Abby. Then she whistled softly. “Hello.”

“What? Find some caviar in there?”

Al opened a sealed plastic container and turned it around. Abby shot Ellie a curious glance—spooking Ellie with her acknowledgement—before she bent over to inspect it. It was a grenade. If they ran into a horde, that would be more than useful.

“I’ve heard of these,” Abby said. “You have to pull the pin to set it off.”

“You’ve never used one?” Al asked.

“None left by the time I joined the WLF. I can make a pipe bomb, but nothing this heavy-duty.”

Ellie at least had gotten a demonstration back in Boston. She had to swallow to say, “We ran a practice drill with duds when I was in military prep.”

That drew Al’s curious stare. Ellie told herself that was what happened when you spoke, but she had to look away. Al asked, “You were a prep kid too?”

Another prepper. Despite herself, Ellie felt the pull of comradery for another orphan that had survived FEDRA. She couldn’t quite maintain eye contact. “Boston QZ. You?”

“Detroit for a few years, then SF.”

“That place was a shithole, wasn’t it?”

“Military Prep is shit no matter what QZ you’re in, right?”

“You served for FEDRA?”

“Combat for a few of my last prep years SF, then medical school.”

“How did you get the job as the old lab director, Allie?” The surprise on Al’s face made Ellie smile bitterly. “Gonna cut into my brain too? Pull me apart piece by piece until you figure out how I tick?”

Despite her words to Abby earlier, Al was firm. “No. When I left, I swore I’d never kill another person for CBI research.”

“How many did you kill in that lab to reach that conclusion?”

Al dropped her gaze, and Abby’s brow furrowed. “Hey—”

“Stopped counting the first year, but… Probably around five to six hundred.”

Abby went still. Ellie wasn’t surprised enough by the answer to miss that Abby was. Then Abby put her hand on Al’s shoulder and said, “I don’t care.”

“Don’t,” Al snapped, pulling away.

“What are we even arguing about anymore?!”

Then Al saw Ellie looking, and that drew Abby’s attention. Ellie realized they knew she could hear them and jerked her gaze away. Being invisible for so long had broken her. The whole situation felt claustrophobic and painful and…

Everything was broken. The whole fucking thing was a mess, wasn’t it? She didn’t trust Al. She shouldn’t trust Abby. She didn’t trust FEDRA or the Fireflies or the WLF or the Scars. She hardly trusted herself.

All that mattered was getting to Jackson.

Ellie climbed into the front seat of the truck and closed the divide between the two compartments. Lev offered her a quick glance, but his gaze was so light she hardly felt it. She studied the signs, checked the map, and felt vague relief they were still headed in the right direction.

“You can trust us,” Lev said quietly.

She snorted. “Sure.”

“You can trust her.”

Ellie looked at Lev closely enough to see the deep scar on his cheek. She remembered him vaguely from the theater, the source of the arrow that had left Dina sick and weak for weeks and the arrow that had crippled Tommy. A Scar helping a WLF soldier.

“How did you two team up?”

“I…did something my people couldn’t accept. They were going to kill me and my sister. Abby saved us.”

“Why?”

“Because it was the right thing to do.”

Lev gave Ellie ample time to reply, but Ellie’s brain was done, churning with darkness and fear. Impending doom should have sated itself with her last horrific months, should be easing up instead of getting worse, but it folded around her like a cloak and whispered the world was going to end. Its voice grew louder the farther they got from the lab…or maybe just the closer they got to Jackson.

“Were you painting?”

“What?”

He nodded at the yellow streaks on her boots. Ellie remembered Cat’s shocked response with a bitter smile. That day felt like a lifetime ago. She rubbed her sternum, trying to push away the heaviness in her chest.

“Close enough. You good to keep driving?”

“I’m fine. Sleep if you need it.”

Ellie rolled up her coat and settled against the window to see if she could escape her anxieties with sleep.

The answer, as usual, was a stubborn ‘no’.

* * *

The source of Doc Jons’ weed for his various teas remained a mystery to Ellie for a couple months after she made it back to Jackson. He kept trying a different brew on her, but the only thing the teas imparted to her was a bad aftertaste. Given Eugene’s stash died with him, she’d assumed it was all gone and these were the last remnants.

One day Greg came by the clinic when Ellie was there, and Doc Jons said, “Think we can trust her?”

Ellie hadn’t had the best day and wasn’t sure how to take that question. She’d spent a lot of time working on herself since returning to Jackson, but she missed being busy. The farmhouse had been both physically and mentally stimulating; she’d never problem-solved so much in her entire life as living with Dina off the beaten track. Back in Jackson, mucking stalls was only so stimulating, but Ellie wasn’t sure she felt up to the task of patrolling.

As Doc Jons had pointed out at their last meeting, Ellie was bored. Combined with depression and a nightmare the night before, she was short on trust to accept this private joke wasn’t at her expense.

Greg winked at her, his smile warm. “Up for a trip outside Jackson? We could do the first half of Teton.”

She hadn’t been on patrol since Joel’s death. She wasn’t sure what to make of Greg or his patrol partner; she’d never seen them in action. But she knew Teton patrol well. Ellie waited for her anxiety to tell her she was going to die if she did this, but all she felt was steady. She reminded herself that Doc Jons had been nothing but kind to her. When he raised his brows to indicate she should accept, Ellie did.

“Great,” Greg exclaimed. “See you at six at the barn tomorrow morning.”

Over dinner at Jesse’s house, Dina’s brow furrowed in concern. “Patrol? Tommy didn’t pressure you into that, did he?”

The fact Dina was engaging her in conversation gave Ellie a jolt. Dina hadn’t outright ignored her—she wasn’t that kind of person—but she had been cautious at best. It was a new side of Dina Ellie had never known. Now Dina actually looked at Ellie, and she was so fucking beautiful that Ellie was startled. She swallowed and turned her gaze back to JJ’s plate, trying not to be weird about Dina’s attention.

“No. Greg suggested it. Teton isn’t a bad trip.”

“Are you overnighting?”

Ellie glanced up from trying to get a mouthful of peas into JJ’s mouth to Dina’s neutral expression. She looked across the table. Robin’s lips were pinched like she was hiding a smile, and James looked back and forth between Dina and Ellie. Just a few minutes ago, Dina had been talking about JJ’s first Hanukkah, which was supposed to start…in two days. Given Ellie had missed JJ’s first Jewish New Year, the only right answer was obviously, “Nope.”

The next day, Ellie rode out with Greg and Eliot only after confirming she would be back before dark that night. She deflected Greg’s teasing about being whipped, not in the least bit ashamed to say that Dina’s approval meant the world to her. They picked off two runners, but it was altogether quiet. She felt naked without her knife, even if Joel’s revolver was a steady weight in her holster.

The first clue about their actual destination was the solar panels set up on the roof of a house just east of the highway. Ellie climbed up on the roof with Greg to brush snow off the panels. She spied clear glass, and Greg waggled his brows as he cleared snow off that too. By the time they leapt back to the ground, Eliot had unlocked the house and unloaded a few fuel canisters from his horse.

When Eliot unlocked the door that led to the glassed-in courtyard, Ellie was already grinning. The smell gave it away first, but there was something about the sight of it: rows and rows of cannabis plants, all growing happily under their sunlight. This operation was legit.

Her first thought was she had to bring Dina up here. Then she had the sobering realization that she’d be lucky if Dina ever wanted to come with her.

“Eugene didn’t just have one station, you know?” Greg said as he walked by Ellie.

“How did you find out?”

“Doc Jons looped me in.”

Ellie walked through the rows, brushing her fingertips over the happy leaves. “Maria’s going to kill us if she finds out.”

“She knows,” Eliot replied lightly.

“Fuck off. No way.”

“Yeah. She considers it ‘financially prudent’.” Eliot wagged his fingers near his ears as he imitated Maria for the last two words. “If Jackson needs some rare goods, medical supplies or something, all we have to do is offer this.”

“Holy shit,” Ellie murmured again. “Bet your dad would be pissed, Greg.”

Greg was busy rolling a joint—surely from the last harvest—and he rolled his eyes. He was a few years older than Ellie, but he still lived with Seth. Not that Ellie could say a word, given she was occupying Maria’s guest bedroom. He offered her the joint, and Ellie shook her head.

“Really?” he asked, his brows raised.

She had no idea if the drugs she was taking daily would interact with weed, and the thought of messing with her brain chemistry, which seemed as close to normal as she’d been in years, was off-putting. Not to mention that they had the rest of their patrol to finish up. When she stated the last point, Greg sighed and pocketed the joint instead of lighting it.

They worked with the plants, the last harvest, and the house for the better part of the day before riding back for Jackson. She dropped by Dina’s, hopeful she could catch JJ before he went to bed. She was able to rock him to sleep when he was still warm and content from nursing from Dina. Ellie hummed softly to him until his little eyelashes brushed his cheeks, and gently, she settled him in his crib.

Tonight, Dina looked at her and quietly declared, “Goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” Ellie replied, thirsting so much for Dina’s company that she felt shy. Ellie smiled, but Dina only studied her for a moment before she shut the door between them.

Doc Jons and Tommy were over for dinner with Maria. Tommy and Maria were cool with each other in general, but it didn’t feel that way tonight, not with discussion centered around Ellie’s day. They told her the other growing locations, the going rate for weed, and covered a few ins and outs of the crop.

“I’ll have to swing by Eugene’s places to see if he has any books or notes.” The thought of the task sparked pleasant excitement in her. She’d hated farming rotation, but Ellie could see there was a science behind Eugene’s old setups.

Doc Jons asked, “How do you feel about taking this on?”

It was a gentle check-in, but Doc Jons had the wherewithal to get Ellie thinking if not talking about things Joel would have told her she should hide. This felt low pressure but seemed a challenge at the same time. Hell, she’d been complaining about her ennui, and the perfect task had just fallen in her lap.

“Good,” she said, earning smiles all around.

When Doc Jons and Tommy rose to leave, she blurted, “Thanks.”

“Oh?” was Doc Jon’s reply.

“Today was a good day.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Ellie,” Maria murmured. She walked behind Ellie, and in a surprisingly affectionate move, squeezed Ellie’s shoulders. Tommy tipped an imaginary hat, his smile gentle.

She’d felt so fucking alone since Seattle, but maybe that was because she’d isolated herself. Her family had been there for her all along. She just had to accept it was okay to need them.

* * *

There was a group of six infected wandering around on 22 a few miles after they entered Wyoming the next morning. The infected were clustered around a building that should be cleared weekly. Ellie stared as they slowly drove by. Greg wouldn’t have left them there, nor would he have left the snow on that roof. They were firm on their protocols, and this broke every one of them.

“Stop.”

Abby glanced at her in surprise, but she slowed down and pulled over. “What is it?”

Ellie opened the door to the truck. She pulled a molotov from her pack and doused the infected that clawed at the fence between them. Abby dispatched those that didn’t immediately die with her pistol. Ellie’s concern pushed her well past her lingering exhaustion, and she squeezed through the fence where the infected had climbed through. She broke a window to enter the house.

“Ellie?”

Abby pushed into the house after her, her pistol still drawn. She followed Ellie into the greenhouse. Ellie’s immediate concern faded slightly. The plants were still alive, if unkempt and overgrown.

“Is this weed?” Lev asked as he surveyed the room.

“How do you know what weed is?” Abby asked him with a grin.

Ellie didn’t have time for their banter. “What’s the date?”

“Second of May.”

Ellie opened a side table and glanced at the last date in the log. Her heart sank. No one had been out here in nearly three weeks. Something was wrong.

“Maybe it was just a mistake.”

“No way. We’ve been running patrols for years.” Ellie shook her head, her unease rising high to choke her. She hoped it was paranoia, that Jackson was going about its business as usual, but impending doom told her that wasn’t likely. “There’s an overlook a couple miles down the road.”

“You want to scout it out?” Abby asked.

Ellie nodded jerkily.

It didn’t strike her until she was in the truck again that she’d been away from Jackson for half a year.

* * *

Abby followed Ellie to the cliff overlook, crawling forward on her belly to take a position by her. Then, just as quickly, Abby gasped and scrambled back a few feet. Ellie raised her binoculars and swept her gaze south.

When she saw the skull and snake painted on Jackson’s gates, her entire body flushed cold. She had to look twice to convince herself she wasn’t hallucinating. She lowered the binoculars and fought tears, pressing her face into the wet rock below her. She clutched her chest and gagged for breath. Her family, Jackson, branded by the goddamn gang from Santa Barbara. There was only one fucking reason for them to be here in Jackson.

Even in her absence Ellie’s past had fucked Jackson over.

“No. Fuck no,” Abby gasped a moment later, her voice shaking. She grabbed Ellie’s shoulder and shook her hard enough to gain Ellie’s attention. Her brow was drawn down tight, her mouth pinched in a straight line, her nostrils flared. “They’re shit, Ellie, and we’re going to fucking take them out. Okay?”

Ellie turned her gaze back to Jackson, to the smudge of a gang sign painted on the gates.

“How do we get in without them seeing?”

“My family…”

Abby’s grip was hard enough to bruise, and that point of pain distracted from the overwhelming ache of Ellie’s skin. “Ellie. How do we get in?”

Focus. She closed her eyes and thought of Jackson’s layout, the gates, and armory. Her voice trembled with her shaky breaths, but she found it. “Ah… We can bring the truck around from the north. The trees will give us cover to roll in, and there’s a…a gap in the fence. Unless they repaired it while I was gone.”

Half a fucking year. How long had the Rattlers been here? Was her family…?

Ellie’s chest felt like it was collapsing; she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.

“Ellie, look at me.”

She raised her gaze, and something about Abby’s expression broke through. “We’re going to get your son out, okay? I need you to scope it out for me while I grab Lev and Al. They should have the… The Rattlers will have them in a pen. Sometimes they separate the men and women and children. See if you can figure out where they could be. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll be right back.”

It physically hurt to look at Jackson like this. Her skin hurt; her brain crawled…squirmed. Ellie hummed the chorus of ‘Riders on the Storm’. Yet her driving need to see if there was any evidence of her family’s survival made her raise her binoculars again. By the time the others returned, crawling on their bellies to flank Ellie, she could say, “There’s a pen by the church. The building on the south side with a pointed top. I see kids in the daycare.”

She hadn’t seen JJ or Dina, but she’d gotten a glimpse of Maria being shoved into the pen by the church. Everyone she saw was bedraggled, their clothes torn, and their faces worn. There were infected straining on chains throughout the town. It didn’t seem like the Rattlers could have been in Jackson long, but…

Where the fuck was her family?

“I see them,” Abby murmured, binoculars raised.

“Why are the Rattlers here?” Lev asked, his voice tight.

“Because of me.”

“How would they know to come here? Did they know who you are?”

“FEDRA?” Abby murmured. Then she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. We go in, we get your son out—”

“I have to save them.” Ellie’s voice was voice tight and painful. She looked at Abby, who looked right back, her brow furrowed. Abby glanced from Ellie to Jackson, her eyes going wider. Then she nodded. “Okay. We get to your son, find the weapons, take out the guards, arm your people, and take Jackson back if we can. If things go south, we free who we can and get out. Lev, you with me?”

“Yeah,” Lev said firmly.

“Al?”

“This is stupid, Abby.”

She was right, but Abby only said, “Then stay with the truck.”

“I’m with you, dammit, but—”

Lev interrupted them. “What’s the plan?”

“We have to get the kids first.”

“Okay,” Abby said steadily. “Ellie, you and me, we’ll get the kids. Lev and Al, you two go for the pen by the church. Then… We find weapons if we can.” She squinted through the binoculars. “There are trucks parked along the west wall. Think they have fuel?”

“Usually they do. Enough to get to the dam.”

“Where’s that?”

“North. Up 191. We have some supplies there in case…”

Abby worked her jaw. “If we have to run, then we meet there, yeah? We could use FEDRA’s radios to coordinate in town.”

“That’s a stupid plan. Even for you, Abby,” Lev said.

Ellie shook her head. “We don’t have a choice.”

“We could spend more time scouting—”

“My son is down there!”

“You’re no help to him if you’re dead.”

Ellie opened her mouth to retort, but Abby put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Wait by the truck, Ellie. Give us a couple minutes. We’ll meet you back there and iron everything out on the way.”

* * *

Ellie had counted a dozen Rattlers, with more sure to be in buildings. When the Fireflies returned to the truck, they gave their estimation based on Abby and Lev’s experience: twenty to thirty. Two dozen Rattlers took over all of Jackson. How the fuck had it happened?

They were outfitted similarly to Santa Barbara—tac vests, helmets, and semi-automatic rifles. They’d have to be careful for their own sakes and for Jackson’s citizens. The Rattlers patrolled in groups of two and three, with a few guards stationed near the prisoner pens.

“Why was no one working?” Lev murmured as they divvied up their weapons and ammunition. He and Abby exchanged long, worried looks.

“What?”

“It may be nothing.”

_“What?”_

“They’d stop work during public punishments.”

“What punishments?”

“All of them,” Abby replied, her gaze dark.

Jesus fucking Christ, what had she brought on Jackson?

“You good for this, Ellie?”

“I have to be.”

“Ellie?”

She glanced at Lev, who had spread out assorted supplies next to his quiver. “Can you show me how to make that arrow?”

“Yeah.” The task pushed impending doom to a thought-allowing distance. Ellie walked him through the steps, and Lev carefully settled his rigged arrow in his quiver once they’d finished. “It’ll drop quick, but you only need it near your target. Just… Be careful of where you shoot.”

“Got it.”

“Hey?” When all three Fireflies paused in their tasks to give her their attention, Ellie swallowed emotion that rose abruptly. “Whatever happens after this… I know I owe you. Thanks.”

* * *

Ellie parked the dark FEDRA truck in a dense area of the woods northeast of Jackson. She’d had it on her list of to-dos when she was kidnapped to clear a few of the trees to allow better visage of Jackson’s surroundings, but she was thankful she hadn’t been able to face the sound of an axe or chainsaw.

There was only one guard on a watchtower, but he was surveying Jackson, not the walls. They considered dispatching him, but the risk of someone in town seeing his corpse was greater than the guard seeing them. The snow was sparse enough that no tracks would show after they got to the wall.

Abby’s entire body flexed as she peeled chain link away from the gap in the wall. The fence hadn’t been there before, but it was a rough enough construction to allow them inside without too much effort.

At the wall, they split. Lev and Al disappeared into the alley heading southeast; they’d loop along the east wall to hit the church. Abby and Ellie went south, Abby almost uncomfortably close to Ellie—nearly breathing down her neck—as they traveled quietly through the town. Something about her claustrophobic presence kept Ellie present even as she moved through the hellish version of the home she’d known for nearly ten years.

Ellie led them into Cat’s yard to avoid a paired patrol. Hearing the Rattlers talk about their shift and bitching about their captives made her sight go red, but this wasn’t the time or place. She and Abby vaulted into Cat’s studio in the backyard and waited in shadow for the patrol to loop the yard.

The Rattlers ended up sitting down to smoke.

Ellie reached behind her to pat Abby’s hip, but Abby didn’t move. Abby was focused entirely on a canvas propped against the wall. It took Ellie a moment to recognize her last Joel painting. It was fresh enough that Ellie looked at it in incomprehension. The piece was eerie and violent, and Ellie had the detached thought of how she could still be so focused on that final moment instead of all the happy ones before.

Abby’s shoulder flinched under her touch, and Abby wouldn’t look her in the eye. Ellie jerked her head at the two guards smoking outside.

Their deaths were quiet; they had hardly anything on them. Abby took the knife when Ellie declined, and she searched their pockets before pulling out a key on a chain.

Ellie led them across two backyards, pausing at the juncture of Jackson’s residences and the graveyard. There was an infected straining on a chain at the corner of the street, and as Ellie stared at the runner, her heart sank with grief.

Despite the sunburn, frostbite, and the snarl on his face, she recognized Doc Jons. Tears stung her eyes, even as Abby’s grip fell firm on her shoulder, pulling her back out of view of the infected and a patrol jogging up the road. Doc Jons strained in a semicircle, following the Rattler patrol’s movements. He was missing a hand.

Her boss, therapist, and mentor, a good man, reduced to that thoughtless thing on a chain… She was too fucking late to save him.

Another dead to infection.

What a joke to have the thought that at least the Rattlers didn’t stop to heckle him. She wanted to end his suffering but knew it would only make her feel better. Doc Jons was gone; he was past understanding anything at this point.

“Okay?” Abby whispered in her ear.

Ellie nodded, turning her mind to what she could fix. She glanced over her shoulder as she considered the next move. She motioned for Abby to follow as they skirted the perimeter of the graveyard and slipped through the maze of greenhouses beyond it. The heavy plastic was torn from several frames, the lights were off, and it was too quiet. Instead of the near constant gurgle of the pipes that supplied their crop with water, there was only deathly silence.

At the edge of Main Street, there was a man sitting on the ground with one leg propped out to one side. He was chained to the ground by a rusty collar around his neck. It took Ellie a horrified moment before she realized what she was seeing.

Not another.

Not…

“Tommy…?”

When she whispered Tommy’s name, his head jerked to the side. He turned far enough for Ellie to see his widened left eye. His face was swollen and bloodied, but his voice was familiar. “Ellie? Jesus Christ… Ellie!”

“Tommy,” she said again, scrambling forward to embrace him. She hadn’t been sure he was still in there, not with his face busted up like that.

“Don’t.”

When he raised a hand quickly to halt her, she saw the oozing bite on his neck. All of Ellie’s relief crashed away in a moment. She’d believed he could help her fix it, but he was just as dead as Doc Jons.

She felt physically sick as she stared at his wound. She heard herself gasp. Tommy’s smile was faint. “I earned this by taking out a couple of them sum’bitches so I reckon it was worth it. Ellie, you gotta get them out of here.”

Her concern for her family pushed past her grief for Tommy. She swallowed and found her voice. “JJ?”

“At the daycare.”

“And Dina—?”

“Okay. In the women’s pen by the church. The men are near the stables.”

They were both still alive.

“Tell me there’s more than you two.”

“A couple others.” Ellie fumbled with Tommy’s chain. Abby crept up to Ellie, holding up the key she’d taken off the Rattler body. All of Tommy’s attention jerked to Abby after a second look. He stared at her in incomprehension as she unlocked the rusty ring from around his neck.

“Well, shee-it,” Tommy finally said. “Dina was right all along.”

Ellie helped Tommy up, looking him over. She touched the wound on his neck, shooting him an indignant look when he warned her off. Then, despite his embarrassment over physical embraces, she hugged him tightly. She needed his touch, and things settled a little more even after his hands gripped her shoulders in the only kind of embrace he knew.

“I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“Listen to me, Ellie.” He pushed her away, making strong eye contact with his good eye. “This ain’t on you. You get that family of yours out.” Then he offered a crooked smile. “As for me, give me a rifle and let me take out as many of these assholes as I can. Make it easy. And how about rescue that wife of mine?”

“Deal.” She swallowed her emotion down, offering a tight nod. Ellie pressed her rifle into Tommy’s hands. She didn’t release it, turning her gaze from Abby to Tommy and back. “You two gonna be okay with each other?”

“Yeah,” Abby said quickly. There was nothing but earnestness on her face, but Tommy’s expression was all aggression as he looked Abby over, taking in her FEDRA uniform. His jaw tightened as he addressed Abby. “You brought her home?”

Abby glanced at Ellie, her expression raw. “Yeah. Guess so.”

“Then I reckon we’re on the same side today. What’s the plan, ladies?”

Abby looked to Ellie for a moment before she said, “Secure the daycare, then we’ll hit the stables. The others are going to the church.”

“Alright.” Tommy clambered to his feet and motioned. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll find a position to back you up.”

They moved down the block slowly, using the street parallel to Main to travel south to the daycare. They bypassed a patrol of two Rattlers, all armed and armored. Ellie led them behind the community center to the narrow alley against the library, giving a good view of the daycare. The only problem was the wide road offered no cover between their alley and the daycare. Patrols on either side would see them cross unless they were lucky.

Ellie looked towards the daycare, right in time for three more Rattlers to jog up the street with their weapons out. Two groups met in front of the cinema, gesticulating and yelling at each other.

“She let the cripple out!”

“How’d she get the fucking key?”

“I don’t fucking know! Go around the back of the buildings. Jen, get on the horn—”

Ellie popped up over the crate, putting two bullets into the woman with the radio. One bullet hit between the woman’s helmet and vest, dropping her immediately. Then in less than five seconds, two others were dead to rifle fire.

“Shit! He’s on the roof!”

The last two scattered. One Rattler ran for cover behind the daycare; the second Rattler ducked down their alley. He flinched in shock when he caught sight of Ellie behind cover. He pulled the weapon off his shoulder and fired.

“Shotgun!” Ellie shouted despite her ringing ears. As he rounded their cover, Abby slammed a brick into the back of his skull. He swooned, then died when Abby shoved him face-first into the wall beside Ellie.

“Come out, bitch!”

Abby’s gaze caught on something across the street, and her eyes went wide. When Ellie looked over her cover, everything inside froze.

It was JJ, JJ in the arms of Jim, Dina’s work partner. And Jim had a revolver pressed against JJ’s temple. For a precious moment, time seemed to stop as Ellie tried to understand what she was seeing. Jim wasn’t among Jackson’s prisoners. If he’d escaped, why the fuck was he threatening JJ?

There was no way Tommy had the right angle to kill him. Jim was standing on the side-street by the daycare with JJ clutched tightly enough in his hands to blanch his knuckles. JJ’s head was against Jim’s neck. It wasn’t a good shot.

“Come out, you stupid bitch! I won’t ask again!”

Ellie lurched to her feet, her hands raised. “Alright!”

Jim’s eyes went wide, and he swayed, his jaw slack. He recognized Ellie at the same time JJ did. JJ immediately started crying and thrashing in Jim’s arms, but Jim didn’t seem to feel him. He shook his gun and shouted, “Drop the gun! The other one needs to come out here now too!”

Beside Ellie, Abby stood. She drew Jim’s wide-eyed stare too. “Toss your fucking gun!”

They both threw their weapons aside. Jim jerked his chin, then gestured with his gun. “Come out here. Both of you. Closer.”

“Please, Jim.” Ellie’s voice caught, her gaze fixed on JJ, who was crying for her in Jim’s arms. Jim shook him and shouted, “Shut the fuck up! I said closer, you cunt!”

Ellie and Abby both walked into the road, their hands raised. Ellie’s entire focus was on her son. “Please, Jim, let JJ go. If you want me then take me. But let him go. Please.”

“How the fuck are you still alive?” Jim asked, his teeth bared in anger.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just let JJ go. He has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Of course he does. He’s _your_ goddamn kid! I’m glad I kept him alive so I can see your face as I kill your precious family, you _cunt_.”

He lowered the revolver again. Ellie scrambled for her gun. JJ screamed and struggled, somehow striking Jim hard enough to free himself. The revolver went off, but the bullet punched into the mud a few feet from Jim’s feet. JJ flinched, but so did Jim.

“Run!” Ellie screamed, and JJ did just that. Instead of running for cover around the daycare, he ran across the street to Ellie. Jim got to his feet after a moment, staggering forward with his weapon raised. In the moment between Ellie getting her gun in hand and raising it to shoot, Jim fired.

She hardly noticed Jim collapse in the mud—his chest spraying red from Tommy’s rifle bullet—not with everything in her focused on the reality that she didn’t see JJ. In her terror, it took a moment to understand what she saw. That was Abby lying in the mud, JJ struggling to get out from under her. There was blood and _fuck—_

Abby hadn’t gone for her gun. She’d done what Ellie should have. She’d gone for JJ, flattening him in the moment that Jim fired.

Ellie scrambled through the mud to yank JJ out of Abby’s arms. As he sobbed and clutched her, Ellie ran her hands over his entire body, tiling his head back to look for blood. “Are you hurt? Baby, are you hurt?”

There was no blood; he didn’t flinch from her touch. Ellie gasped in disbelief as she wrapped him up tight in her arms. Her breath released with a shaking sob; she didn’t attempt to staunch her tears. He was crying in her arms too, his grip tight around her neck. She could feel his mouth moving against her neck as he screamed gusty sobs against her.

“Shit!”

Abby’s cry drew her attention. With JJ still wrapped up tight around her, Ellie scrambled closer, her hand ghosting over the bullet hole in the back of Abby’s jacket. Then she saw the blood on Abby’s hand. Abby was groaning low in pain.

“Where?”

“My fucking leg!”

Ellie pushed aside her hand and felt the sticky warmth of blood. She used Abby’s knife to cut Abby’s pants down the side, displaying a deep furrow of bleeding tissue down her left thigh. She stared for a moment before shoving Abby’s jacket up to push her clean hand under Abby’s tactical vest. No blood there, but Abby screamed at her touch.

“What the hell?” Tommy nearly fell in the mud as he staggered around the corner. “Jesus Christ.”

“Help me. Hold her leg up. Don’t touch the wound.”

He collapsed on one knee and stared at Ellie as if he’d never seen her before. He propped Abby’s lower leg on his good knee.

“JJ, I need you to be quiet. Can you do that, please?”

JJ’s face was flushed and tear streaked, but he managed to turn his howling sobs into shuddering gasps. One of his hands was twisted tight in her coat after Ellie separated them enough that she could move. Ellie wrapped Abby’s her entire left thigh with tape. Abby, for her part, only groaned with each pass of tape.

Abby had just protected JJ with her own body. She took multiple bullets for Ellie’s son. She’d chosen Ellie over the Fireflies, brought her to Jackson, hadn’t hesitated to endanger herself to fight the Rattlers for Jackson, and she’d saved JJ.

Who the fuck was this woman?

Ellie yanked hard on the tape, drawing a startled cry. “Still with me, Abby?”

“Yes— _shit_! You goddamn bitch!”

“You’re not fucking allowed to die.”

Abby offered a wincing grin. “Can I get that in writing?”

Ellie blinked her tears away before she tugged JJ back against her.

“Ellie? Tommy?”

She looked up in surprise to see a terrified face peek out the window of the daycare. It breathed caution back into her, how easily she’d overlooked their surroundings. “Lacey,” Ellie murmured. She raised her voice to ask, “Are there any Rattlers inside?”

“No.”

She got Abby up the steps into the daycare despite JJ wrapping himself around Ellie’s waist. Abby screamed as they settled her into the beanbag chair in the back room. In any other situation, seeing Abby in full FEDRA tactical gear sitting in a beanbag chair would make Ellie laugh. She hoped she could pull this memory out later to sketch. Now, she only felt fear.

“I’m sorry, Ellie! I couldn’t stop him from taking JJ… I’m sorry…”

Ellie was startled by but accepted Lacey’s hug. She squeezed her shoulder and pushed her away gently. Lacey was in her late teens, newly married. She’d been close to due when Ellie was taken, but there was a baby in the sling around her chest. They’d shared stall mucking duty back in Ellie’s first months back in Jackson after Santa Barbara. Ellie had always liked her. The fact Lacey had had the good judgment to put all the kids into the corner of the back room, well away from any visible windows, raised Ellie’s appreciation for the woman.

“It’s okay. He’s okay.” Ellie touched the bruise on Lacey’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” Lacey asked, her eyes round.

“We need to go,” Tommy interjected, his attention on the windows. “What’s that other group of yours doing?”

They’d already said. Ellie looked against the nodular oozing edges of Tommy’s bite. “Freeing the women.”

“We should get the men out then. Maybe grab a couple of trucks by the stables.”

Even if he was already losing something of himself, Tommy was right. Ellie looked at the children, at Abby and Lacey, and felt a shudder of despair. None of the kids here were old enough to have done more than hunt with a rifle, but Lacey had taken part in a couple group patrols before she’d gotten married.

“Lacey, do you remember how to work a pistol? Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

Ellie withdrew her weapon. “The safety’s here. There’s a round in the chamber. You don’t have to cock it to fire, okay? If Abby needs you to back her up, do it. They’ll kill you if you don’t kill them.”

JJ was still attached to her waist. Ellie sank to her knees to hug his bony little body tight. He’d grown so much, but he was so fucking thin. She hated how short she’d just been with him. “Hey, Potato. I need you to keep everyone calm, okay? I have to go help your gramps. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t leave me. Don’t leave again, please…” He was crying in earnest.

“Hey.” She clutched JJ tight again, breathing in his brassy scent and trying to soak in his essence. She fought tears too. “You know who you were named after, right? They were two of the bravest men I ever knew, and it’s not fair, but I need you to be like them right now.” She brushed the tears from his dirty cheeks and kissed his forehead. “Can you do that for me, Jesse Joel?”

He nodded as he calmed down, his breaths shuddering his chest. She kissed his temple again and murmured against his skin, “I’m coming back. I won’t leave you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“More than anything, Tater.” She gathered him for another long embrace, breathing out her fear.

As Ellie rose, she turned to Abby. It wasn’t fair, but she had to say it. “Keep them safe.”

Abby’s gaze was caught on JJ, but when Ellie addressed her, she yanked her stare back to Ellie. Her expression firmed as she said, “Always.”

Ellie didn’t have to know Abby well to see that was a goddamn vow. In the front room of the daycare, Tommy nodded at Jim’s corpse. “He stole your revolver.”

Fucking shit. Jim had tried to kill JJ with Joel’s gun.

The road was still clear of Rattlers. As Ellie peeled the revolver from Jim’s fingers, she realized he was still alive. His breaths were ragged, and he stared up at her with wide eyes. When she stood up, she rolled him over with a kick and pressed her boot onto the back of his head, pushing his face in the mud and manure.

Let him eat shit in his final moments.

The weight of the revolver was familiar in her right hand. She flexed her last two fingers around the grip, opened the sticky cylinder and counted her ammunition. Not much, but it would have to do.

* * *

A few weeks after resuming her life in Jackson, Ellie rode back out to the farmhouse. Funny that a place that had been her home for nearly a year could invoke such unhappiness in her. She’d never liked living here for how intertwined her life was in depression and trauma, but she’d told herself it had been necessity. Too bad Ellie had ruined Dina’s dreams too.

Now Ellie took the steps up to her painting room and studied the piles of junk she’d collected neutrally. Dina had been right to leave it. Dina, who had looked at Ellie that first night like she’d needed nothing more than to hold her again and now could hardly look at her at all. Ellie had hoped for forgiveness, but sometimes things had to be earned. Other times they couldn’t be.

Ellie stared the boxes and paintings and sketches and just sighed.

She only wanted one thing, but it was buried in the back of the pile, tucked carefully where Dina couldn’t discover all the secrets of her past grief.

Riley’s Firefly tag fell in hand, and Ellie studied it before dropping it back into the box. Below that pin was a sheet of yellowed paper sealed in protective plastic. Ellie lifted it and studied the ink and blood that marked it. Ellie wondered how she would ever fulfill the words here when she’d done everything in her power to fuck them up.

What kind of a mother would Anna have been if she had more time? Her words about hating babies were alien. Ellie had loved JJ from the first moment she’d felt him move within Dina. She’d been so afraid he would forget her in the months she’d been gone, but within a few moments of seeing her again, her little potato had bounced excitedly in his seat, waving his hands and grinning and grunting like a maniac.

Ellie wondered what it would be like to carry a child, all the fear and pain and joy of it. She’d never forget those quiet moments of love, holding Dina while she nursed JJ. Part of her wanted that, but pregnancy wasn’t a risk she had the right to take. By proxy was as close as she’d ever get. She fingered the letter and closed her eyes, reciting the words internally.

_Make me proud._

“Lost your knife,” Ellie murmured quietly. “Sorry.”

Ellie pulled the two heavy books in her backpack apart to slip her mother’s letter between them for safe keeping. She swept her gaze around the room one last time; the guitar propped against the window drew her attention.

She’d left it behind for a reason, but…

When Ellie returned to Maria’s house, she climbed the steps quietly and closed her bedroom door behind her, ashamed by her burden. It took her a month to find fresh strings and repair a few of its faults. Eventually, her excuses to avoid playing ran out, and Ellie settled in the chair of her bedroom with the guitar propped on her thigh.

It hurt, but she needed the music enough to outweigh the frustration of her deficiency. Chords were alien now. Even when she could feel her last two fingers moving, the guitar didn’t.

It took her some time to accept that was okay. She could be happy with what she had despite everything she’d lost along the way.

Then Dina started looking at her like she hung the moon again that winter; JJ called her ‘Mommy’ that spring; Robin and James made Ellie’s birthday worth celebrating that summer; and fuck it if she wasn’t playing well again by fall.

Her life was never going to be like before—not her playing, not her relationship with Dina, not her life in Jackson. She’d assumed what she’d lost along the way could never be regained, but fuck it if it didn’t fall back into place again despite being just a little different. This time around, Ellie wasn’t going to take any of her blessings for granted.

“Resilience,” Dina told her one night when she’d invited herself into Ellie’s bed. “You find a way to heal, and then you know you can.”

“Is that what you did when Talia died?”

“She taught me how to do it after our mother died. You just…keep going, and eventually, you’ll find the reason you did.”

“What was your reason?”

Dina tucked hair behind Ellie’s ear. Ellie nodded after Dina’s long, soft look, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You and JJ were mine too.”

It had been funny to hear Dina echo Joel’s words so closely. Keep living and heal. Find something to keep fighting for.

As Ellie followed Tommy’s irregular gait around the playground, she knew they were in for a fucking fight. Even with her priorities straight, she welcomed the chance to bring a little pain to these fucks.

* * *

The men’s pen was in the old dog kennels just south of the stables. The kennel walls were all chain link fences with a tin roof. The area was completely open to the elements. When she finally got a good look at the number of men in the pens, her heart sank.

“We lost a lot the first few days,” Tommy murmured quietly. He wiped tears from his left eye. If he was becoming photophobic, he didn’t have much time before the infection took control. Riley’d only had an hour between complaining about the light of the moon and uncontrollable aggression.

Ellie took a long breath and released it. She was angry, but the need to save as many Jackson citizens as possible was more important than any wrath she was holding. And fuck, her worry over Dina and Robin and Maria… Surely Al and Lev had freed the women by now.

There were three Rattlers that Ellie could see, though given the gunfire from across town, more would gather to keep the prisoners secure. She’d pray to whatever god would listen that Abby was keeping the kids safe, but Ellie trusted Abby more.

She glanced over at Tommy. “Ready?”

“Be safe, Ellie.”

“Not likely.”

He grinned in reply, reaching out to lay one heavy hand on her shoulder. His squeeze was firm, and that touch alone told her he loved her. She put her hand over his and knew his tears were from something other than his infection.

Ellie dropped from the roof into the mud of the corral. It smelled like manure; the cows were thin and covered in muck. They were restless, unhappy. She was hopeful the low of the cattle along the opposite fence would be enough to cover any sounds she made. There were three Rattlers she could see, but as she crossed the distance and set up her move, four more Rattlers appeared, trotting in to carry on hushed conversation with the others.

“We should go help!” one woman said. “You know they’re going to go after their kids. All we need is them as hostage—”

“Our orders are to guard the prisoners. For all we know it was just the cripple.”

“We know it wasn’t just the cripple! The wife escaped, and she’s probably armed—”

Seven people, armed and dangerous. She’d faced worse before, despite lacking a melee weapon and rifle. She settled against the corner of the barn and studied her revolver. With a long breath, she leaned around the corner and fired.

The gun jammed.

And of course the Rattlers saw her.

“Stray!” one shouted, raising his rifle to fire at her.

“Is it her?!”

Ellie ducked around the side of the building and sprinted along the edge of the barn. Tommy must have killed one because she heard the crack of his rifle and a scream. Ellie had a grenade, but she couldn’t remember the kind of range or damage they did. She wasn’t willing to risk hurting her own with it.

If she could lead the Rattlers on a goose chase, maybe Tommy could pick them off one by one.

There was a bull in the squeeze chute by the pen. The chute was old but serviceable, but it was a cranky piece of machinery. It had a headgate that closed on both sides to trapped cattle’s neck, and they slid a crowbar between slats to keep the cow or bull from backing up out of the gap.

Ellie opened the back gate behind the bull and waited with bated breath. As soon as a Rattler rounded the corner of the barn and saw her there, she dodged behind the bull and climbed through the other side.

The Rattler was hot on her heels. Ellie slammed the gate on the opposite side closed, stunning the Rattler climbing through by the blow to her head. Ellie yanked the crowbar out that prevented the bull from backing up, and damn did that bull back up.

He trampled the woman in the chute behind him, and the other Rattler following forgot about Ellie to reach into the chute to shove at the bull. The dumb bastard screamed the woman’s name and went so far as to shove his entire chest and head into the chute. As if the ton of animal would even feel the force of a human arm. The bull thrashed against the side of the chute and crushed the man’s torso into pulp, raising his shriek on top of the woman’s.

With the sound of the few bellowing cows trapped behind the chute, it was chaos. Yet even over all that noise, she heard the screamed, “Bitch!”

As the next Rattler rounded the front of the chute, Ellie charged him. Before he could swing at her, she slammed him back against the metal frame. At the same time, the bull slipped in the gore and thumped the side of the chute. The combination of forces unstuck the loose side grate—one that broke Ellie’s collarbone the year before—and the heavy steel pipe dropped on the Rattler’s head with a crunch.

Ellie panted, taking a few seconds to survey the damage.

Three dead to a bull named Frankfurt.

Elle flinched at the hot pass of a bullet by her face, and the bull screamed and collapsed within the chute. She scrambled for the gun on the ground, dodging behind the chute for cover. When the Rattler rounded the edge of the barn, Ellie put two bullets in her. She squeezed the trigger again only for the gun to click. Empty. Then Tommy blew the woman’s leg off, ending her life more definitively than Ellie had.

After the woman’s screams faded, there was nothing but silence until a shout echoed from outside.

“Come out for I’ll start shooting them one by one.”

Tommy didn’t shoot.

“Alright!” Ellie shouted. “I’m coming out. I’m unarmed!”

As soon as she walked out of the barn, the Rattlers seized her by the neck and shoved her to her knees, snatching her revolver out of her holster and tossing her backpack aside. Ellie looked between the two men that stood over her. The men exchanged looks before one hit her in the face and dropped her into the mud.

She realized Tommy must be out of ammo. She hadn’t been counting his shots. Fuck.

“Where did she come from?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter. Send her over to the women’s pen. We’ll…” The one kneeling on her pulled her torn sleeve back with a muttered curse. “Tank. Look. It’s her.”

“What? No way, man.” The second Rattler walked over to stare at the ferns on Ellie’s arm.

“Didn’t FEDRA get her this winter? How the fuck did she get back here?”

“Pick her up.”

She sneered as the first Rattler yanked her to her knees again. The second Rattler punched her in the face more than once, with force enough to make her lightheaded from the pain. She dripped blood into her lap and couldn’t help but laugh as the first one shoved the second away.

“Come on, man, she’s not just for you.”

“Why are you laughing, you fucking cunt?!”

“What a little bitch,” she sneered. No better insult for a little man, though Nora had used it effectively against her, hadn’t she? Joel would have just rolled his eyes.

The second Rattler pulled a knife from his pocket. The sound of it, the snick as the switchblade opened, the worn wood of its handle… She knew it. Her gaze caught on the knife until the tip of the blade touched her neck.

Looking into the Rattler’s eyes, she felt calm for the first time in weeks.

“Stop, Tank! Don’t make this easy for her.”

Tank exhaled shakily, his jaw tight in rage. She saw the desire in his eyes, but he pulled the knife away and folded it, sliding it into his pocket. What they didn’t see was Tommy climbing down from the roof and approaching as fast as his limp would allow. As the one with her knife turned away, Ellie hastened to say, “What was the fat one’s name? With the white ponytail.”

That made both Rattlers turn to stare. “He was a little bitch too—”

It wasn’t Tank but his partner that strode to her and slammed her face back into the cage behind her. His hand closed around Ellie’s neck, but she grabbed his other hand between her teeth. They struggled for a moment before he yanked his hand away and slapped her. Her world grayed, and she didn’t regain her senses fast enough to steal his gun.

By then Tommy was on Tank. Instead of trying to engage him hand-to-hand, he sank his teeth into the man’s neck.

“Shit!” Tank gasped, hand on his neck after he shoved Tommy away.

The other Rattler turned. He raised his pistol and shot Tommy in the face. Tommy collapsed into the mud, his gaze vacant. Dead in a moment. Dead. Ellie gasped. She shook as she processed it. So fucking quick, the difference between man and a bag of bones.

As the two Rattlers began to talk with raised voices, a familiar voice came from behind her. “Ellie, take it.”

The firm curve of the handle of a hoof knife settled into her right hand. The blade of a hoof knife was curved at the tip, but if Teb had anything to do with it, the knife was sharp enough to shave hair. She was glad the son of a bitch had made it this far.

“Did he get you?” the first Rattler was shouting.

“No,” Tank said, his voice shaking. Beneath his hand, blood soaked into his collar.

The first Rattler fired at his comrade twice. The first bullet went wide, hitting the barn; the second pull was an empty click. The two men stared at each other in shocked silence. Then Ellie was up, but she moved too slowly to maintain the element of surprise.

The infected Rattler backed away, pointing at her with the shout. The smaller one turned just in time for her to sink the hoof knife into his eye. His shriek was monstrous, even after the blunt edge of the hoof knife popped through his eye socket to puncture his brain. She yanked the handle hard, changing the angle enough to pulp his brain. He collapsed into the mud.

Tank, the big infected Rattler, stared at her, then he sneered and drew the switchblade from his pocket. “I’m gonna enjoy cutting you up, you fucking cunt.”

He flinched at her, but she didn’t bite at his feint. He sneered and said, “I fucked your wife. She tastes real sweet. Told me how much she misses cock.”

Ellie’s rage settled deep in her bones, and he grinned to see it. He waggled the fingers of his left hand over his own scalp, his grin widening. He whistled a high-low tone. “FEDRA dig around in there, huh? Anybody still home?”

Ellie scored a deep groove on the outside of the Rattler’s forearm, and despite his shout of pain, he still laughed. “Ooh, they left a little something behind.”

She dodged two swings and retaliated by cutting ribbons out of his arm, neck, and chest. By their fourth exchange, fear had replaced his bravado, and he gaped at her in shock when she took back her knife.

“Please,” he said, one hand raised, the other on the deep cut in his neck. “Please, I didn’t—”

Ellie yanked him around to bury her blade into his neck and drag it across his flesh with two hard tugs. She tossed his body aside before he was dead, walking a few paces to sink to her knees by Tommy.

She knew he was dead. She knew he would be dead with or without the bullet hole in his face, but… She rolled him onto his back and cupped her mouth against her rising grief. “Tommy…”

“Ellie! Get the key! The big one has it.”

She wiped her tears away, reminded of the urgency of the situation. That was Greg speaking; he was thin and with a beard for the first time Ellie had ever seen. Seth stood beside his son, his gaze wide. He looked as haggard as the rest of them. A few of Jackson’s men were straining at the fence of the pen, trying to open a gap wide enough to squeeze through. She reached out to retrieve her revolver, pick up her pack, and find the key in Tank’s pocket.

Ellie unlocked the pens, and the men exited quickly; her regulars from patrol ran through the barn and yard, snatching up anything that could be used as weapons. She accepted a desperate hug from James—letting herself soak in the reality of his survival for a few moments—but she knew she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

She stepped back and saw that her patrollers were looking to her. After all this fucking time, they corralled to her. Their attention scared her, but she trusted these men. Greg handed her the rifle Tommy had dropped. There were a few rounds in it.

“What do we do?”

“I…” She stared at them and shook her head. Abby would have an answer, but Ellie felt adrift, caught, and… “I have a couple Fireflies with me. They’re—”

The breeze shifted, and she smelled it. After months of living in confinement with the scent, she knew what it meant. The meaty wetness of infected was on the wind. A moment later, they all heard them. Gunfire and shrieks of infected and dying humans alike heralded the next horror that day: there was a horde in Jackson.

And all Ellie had to defend Jackson against it was a grenade, a partly loaded rifle, and a switchblade.


	10. Just out of reach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have action fatigue.

Lev had more than a few maxims for almost every moral dilemma a person could have. Things like, “Blame casts its shadow on the accuser.” And, “Strength rises from weakness.” They sounded nice—as if they were plucked from epigraphs in a Frank Herbert novel—but often, Abby saw no practical application for them. If they centered Lev, that’s all they needed to do, but an ugly part of her was irritated when he reflected those words on her.

He had a couple for when Abby realized the Rattlers were trading partners with the Fireflies, friendly enough that one of the fuckers tried to shake Abby’s hand when she went inland on an infection-collection errand. She hated how scared she was of them, how they tainted what would otherwise be an idyllic living situation. Yasmin wouldn’t talk to her about her concerns, and Miguel only laughed off Abby’s exclamation that they couldn’t afford to arm slavers that lived within spitting distance of them.

Lev had been characteristically even about the situation overall, but Abby’s funk continued long enough for Lev to take her out on the boat to try to cheer her up. She tried to shake herself from her dark mood, but she stewed on the reality of the Fireflies cooperating with slavers.

Lev said, “Maybe you should try to find forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness for what?” Abby asked him incredulously. “What the Rattlers did to us?”

“Everyone has some goodness in them, don’t they?”

Abby remembered the fall of the whip, Lev’s bruises, and the hard stretch on those pillars. She remembered being hitched to the heavy water wagon as a Rattler sat atop it, flicking his whip and shouting for Abby the Ox to fucking pull. The wagon had been better than the plow. She remembered the blindfolded pit fights. Abby took a long swig of water to swallow her thickened saliva.

“Nope. Not feeling it for them.”

“Damen used to sneak me extra food.”

That was news, but if Abby had to think of a Rattler that would do it, Damen wasn’t a surprise. In some ways, Lev had been lucky to fall into that group. Abby’s overseer had been Rose, a sadist who decided Abby was her favorite victim. Abby heaved a sigh, seeing Lev’s point despite herself. “Fine. Tribalism is bad. But they’re slavers. That will never be okay.”

“Abby, we’ve talked about this. The healing is for us. Holding onto anger towards people who might not still be alive isn’t healthy.”

“What about all the people they’re abusing now?”

“You can’t forgive the Rattlers for them. But you can for what they did to you.”

Abby turned her attention to the fishing poles set up along the stern. Lev sighed audibly behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder. “Look, I appreciate your input. I mean it. But I don’t think forgiveness works that way, Lev. Not for me.”

“What about Ellie?”

She should have expected that. “She’s not them, Lev.”

“She hurt you.”

Abby wondered if he knew that Ellie put a blade to his throat to goad Abby into that desperate fight. “It’s not the same.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Abby took a long, shuddering breath before exhaling heavily. “Because we’d be dead if she didn’t do what she did.”

But mostly because Abby was a piece of shit. Abby would never be able to forgive the Rattlers, and by the way Ellie had cut into her on the beach, Abby might be the equivalent for Ellie. Yet Ellie had let her go, and Abby didn’t trust herself not to shoot any Rattler dead in the moment.

She didn’t want to be a figurative Rattler to anyone, not even to Ellie.

It felt unfinished, like Abby had more to do to resolve their strange push-pull. Like she had to make things right. Was it any wonder that she jumped at the opportunity to see it through?

Which was how she wound up in a beanbag chair in Jackson’s brightly painted daycare, surrounded by Ellie’s son—Jesse Joel, JJ—and a cluster of other kids. The infant was tied up in a sash on one of the oldest girls, and the baby’s mother carried the only other weapon. Despite the overall terrifying situation, the kids were quiet until JJ peeked out the tiny window in the corner room and whispered there were two Rattlers coming for them.

Lacey, the girl in charge of this group of terrified little children, killed one of them as they rounded the building, and Abby got the other. The kids flinched and one screamed at the sound of the guns, but the little group huddled quietly immediately after. Lacey took her position in front of the group, and Abby sat immobile, directly in the line of fire of anyone who wanted to break through the front door.

There were gunshots down the road, and a Rattler ran by only to collapse from a bullet right in front of the daycare. Lacey risked creeping into the front room, Abby covering her as best she could from her limited view. Then Lacey whispered and waved at the window. A moment later, a group of armed, bloodied women entered the building.

One of them—a small, dark-haired woman—looked around desperately, and JJ sprinted right by Abby to dive into her arms. He shook in the woman’s grip, and more children spilled out into their loved one’s arms.

“I saw her. I saw Mommy!” JJ was stuttering and gasping as the woman touched his face and body as if affirming herself of his safety. When she folded JJ up tight and kissed his tousled head, Abby finally got a clear view of the woman’s face.

Her gut dropped. JJ wasn’t Ellie’s by blood; he was this woman’s. Ellie’s choked, _“She’s pregnant,”_ echoed in Abby’s mind, and a long-healed wound tore open once more as Abby faced the consequences of what she’d been so ready to do in that theater in Seattle.

She wished she could erase her wrath, her sneering reply, her intent. But that introspection would have to wait for another time. Abby shifted, wincing as she tried to get her injured leg under her. When she glanced up again, the woman’s dark eyes went wide as she looked Abby up and down. Past her surprise was worry.

“Where’s Ellie? Is she okay?”

“Went to free the men with Tommy. She’s not hurt.”

She nodded jerkily; her smile seemed pained. “Abby, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Dina. Al went to get your truck.”

“Lev?”

“Clearing the gate with our other group. Can you help cover us while we get the kids inside the truck?”

“I can do that. Just help me up.”

It fucking hurt, and despite Dina’s grunt of effort, Abby had to do most of the lifting herself. The tacvest had saved her immediate life, but it was heavy and uncomfortable as hell. Abby was exhausted, thirsty, and cold, which told her that she was also losing blood. Her back was starting the spasm, and her leg was pure agony, but it was absolutely not time to rest.

If Yara could run them out of a forest and help her brother kill a clicker with her arm pulverized, Abby could fucking do this.

“You’re fucking heavy,” Dina said.

“It’s a source of pride.” She offered a tense smile and jerked her head. “I’ll post by the door. Can you cover from across the street?”

“Watch the roof. We shot a couple on top of the store.”

With Dina in cover across the street, they waited. More gunfire sounded close by. Only minutes later, the rumble of a military truck heralded Alyssa’s arrival. She leapt out of the truck unharmed—something that filled Abby with relief—and yanked open the back doors.

“All good?” Abby asked, limping over to take a post behind the truck as the kids climbed in.

“Turn on your damn radio. We tried hailing you. Lev’s with the other Jackson group, trying to round up some trucks. Where’s Ellie?”

“Freeing the men.”

Lev had better be looking out for himself. She fumbled with the radio on her tacvest. On cue, the sound of gunfire echoed down the street, and speed became a necessity. Dina settled on the other side of the truck’s doors, pushing at an older woman who was struggling to climb in. Abby winced and grunted as she lifted the woman by the seat of her pants, pushing her gracelessly into the truck.

“Go north up 191 to the barricaded dam.”

Alyssa nodded in confirmation. “Got it. Get in the truck, Abby.”

“I’m good. Go. Get the kids out of here.”

“You’re wounded!”

“It’s just a flesh wound.” Alyssa’s face pulled in fear at Abby’s joke, but they didn’t have time for any of this. “I can cover you. Get in the fucking truck.”

Alyssa didn’t protest again.

A bullet hit the side of the truck. One woman screamed, but Dina pushed at the back door of the truck as she exchanged gunfire with the Rattler on the roof, sending the man tumbling to Jackson’s street with a dull thud.

“Go!” Abby shouted, shoving the other door shut with her shoulder.

Only, fuck, a kid jumped out of the back of the truck and followed Dina back under the eaves of the daycare. Abby could only stare as the doors crashed shut and Alyssa punched the gas to speed down the street. Abby shuffled after the other women. She felt keenly the despair that Dina turned on her son, but only a moment later, Dina pulled him close to say, “JJ, you stay with me. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” JJ said, his voice wobbling.

There was a shout of terror, gunfire, and two Rattlers sprinted by them without stopping. Abby raised her gun to shoot, but neither of the Rattlers stopped. They just kept running as if being chased by a…

Abby’s radio crackled, and Lev said, _“Get out of there! There’s a horde!”_

She heard the infected a moment later. Abby looked down the north street and gasped in pure disbelief. It _was_ a fucking horde charging towards them.

“Run! Go!”

No matter how long they’d been imprisoned, the women of Jackson were all faster than Abby. As small as she was, Dina picked up JJ and ran step for step with the other women. Abby hopped and skipped, knowing she’d never make it past the horde on their heels.

Three trucks sprayed her with dirt and muck as they careened around a corner, overtaking the women. Abby raised her gun, but the men and women in the back of the vehicles were reaching out, pulling the women and children into the truck beds. Ellie and Tommy had been successful. The sight of Lev among them sent a rush of relief through her. Abby had renewed hope, but despite her shuffling approach, she realized there was too much distance between her and the trucks and too little between her and the horde.

She wasn’t going to make it, but neither were a handful of men and women without a truck to climb into.

On that overlook, Alyssa had argued this was a suicide mission. At the time, Abby had retorted that didn’t make it wrong. No eating her words now.

Abby paused in her retreat. Everything inside settled. If everything she’d done had led her right here to give Jackson’s citizens the chance to get away, then she was getting more than she deserved with a sliver of absolution.

She turned around.

Her pistol had five rounds, and she killed five of the charging infected with it. Then all she had left was her knife. Abby took long breaths, tightening her grip on her knife, and waited for the first line of the horde to come to her.

She dropped three infected before the knife got stuck in a clicker’s face plate. Abby seized a runner around the shoulders and threw it down, dropping her right boot into its face. The force of the blow sent a bolt of lightning down her left hamstring. The pain made her weak. Abby hit the ground when something struck her back, but she brought down another runner by busting its knee with her kick. Another came overhead, and a clicker was running up on her.

Then she heard the slice of flesh and the pulse of blood. There was a wet suction as a knife slipped into a clicker skull.

It took her a precious moment to believe what she was seeing, that it was Ellie overhead, staring down at Abby with her face lined in intensity.

“Get up!” Ellie shouted, leaning over to seize Abby’s upper arm in a surprisingly brutal grip. “Get the fuck up! Go, _run_!”

Abby scrambled to her feet, stumbling when Ellie pushed her. There were three new trucks parked in the street. Two were already rolling out with their beds full. An empty one remained parked.

Abby ignored everything inside that told her she’d hurt herself worse by running; hurting worse was better than dying. She managed a shuffle, then pushed herself to a run, lightning shooting up her leg and back with each stride.

The truck was already rolling when she clambered gracelessly into the empty bed.

Abby lurched around, but Ellie wasn’t on her heels like she expected.

“Fuck!” Abby gasped. “Ellie!”

Ellie ignored her, pacing backwards at too slow a speed to make up the distance. What the fuck was she doing?

“Ellie!”

She threw something small. When it impacted the ground down the street, the entire street exploded. Infected parts flew everywhere, and the sound made Abby flinch. Then Ellie turned and ran. From all sides, infected were bearing down on them.

There had to be two dozen of the fuckers, coming from the north and west, all keyed on the sound of Ellie’s grenade.

Ellie had killed more than to two to get to Abby. She was not going to die for that.

“Drive!” Ellie shouted, her legs stretched in a full sprint. “Go, Greg, I’ll catch you!”

Whether or not Greg heard her, he put his foot on the gas. Abby pressed her right shin against the truck gate and focused past the pain. She had to be ready to reach out to take Ellie’s hand. Ellie sprinted just past a clicker, dodged a runner swiping at her, and skidded sideways before resuming her full sprint.

The truck was picking up speed slowly. Abby waited with bated breath, seized a handhold with her left hand, then she reached with her right. Ellie was close, her eyes wide as she reached out. With Ellie’s wrist closed in her hand, and Abby used every bit of leverage to spring off the tailgate and yank Ellie into the truck in a right-leg deadlift.

Abby didn’t just pull Ellie into the truck; she propelled them both into the back of the truck cabin. She pulled them so fucking hard that she’d brought along the clicker holding onto Ellie’s leg.

Abby screamed when she landed on her back, and when the combined weight of Ellie and the clicker put pressure not just her bruised back but the bullet still embedded in her vest, she nearly puked from the pain.

“Oh, shit!” Ellie shouted.

The clicker crawled up their bodies, crouched face to face with Ellie. Its meaty, musky scent bathed them both as it shrieked. Ellie’s hand pushed at its shoulder, and Abby swung in complete instinct, striking it in the jaw with her fist. Ellie got the flat of her boots on the clicker’s chest and kicked. As Abby’s sight grayed, the clicker staggered back, rising just high enough for a tree branch to clothesline it, tearing it from the back of the truck with a crunch.

Just up the hill from Jackson’s gates, the truck skidded out, kicking up mud as it fishtailed. The infected pouring out of the town were getting closer, and Ellie shouted at the driver as Abby’s awareness of her surroundings became clearer. A bruising grip seized Abby’s shoulder and slammed her back into the wheel well. Abby screamed as her sight blacked out from the pain of the impact. In the moment of her dumbness, she heard the snap of the infected’s teeth and felt the hot wetness of its breath on her ear.

And she was back in the Rattler’s slavery, blindfolded, and yanked against a hard ledge as someone chattered their teeth in her ear, powerless to do anything but thrash.

Ellie lunged at her. Abby heard the squelch of flesh around Ellie’s knife, then the infected’s grip on her released. The truck jolted as the tires found traction and ran over the corpse. Abby rolled away from the wheel well, puking bile involuntarily.

“You good?” Ellie gasped at her. “Did it get you?”

Abby grabbed her neck and checked. No blood, no pain. She groaned. “Clean.”

There was a ping of gunfire on the truck, and Ellie flattened herself as Abby wrapped her up instinctively.

“Rattlers!” Greg shouted from the front seat. “Three in the back of a truck!”

“Flank them!”

Abby lifted her head to see a Rattler truck drive by, skidding through the wet brush, aiming for a truck packed with Jackson civilians. Their truck accelerated, and Abby slid down the bed, striking her boots against the tailgate. Ellie was fiddling in her bag, but she kept herself low as their truck swerved and jerked to catch up.

“Here.”

Ellie shoved a smoking canister in Abby’s hand before she checked her rifle for rounds. “Toss it in the bed when we get close.”

When they rode abreast to the Rattler’s truck, she caught the startled gaze of three fuckers as she tossed the smoke bomb. It exploded within the truck bed, provoking screams and coughs. Ellie got one round out of her rifle before a Rattler leapt between the trucks with her machete raised high.

If Abby were in any other situation, she would be impressed by the balls on the woman.

Abby caught the Rattler’s wrist as she brought the weapon down at Ellie, and Ellie put her knife in the woman’s armpit. The woman groaned in pain and Abby managed to yank her around to get her in a chokehold. But then the Rattler struck her left fist against Abby’s leg, and everything grayed out. By the time she was aware again, the Rattler was bleeding arcs out of her throat.

Then the Rattler truck, which had pulled ahead of them, exploded, rocked up on two wheels, and rolled. Abby, Ellie, and the corpse slammed up onto the truck’s cabin as their driver slammed on the brakes.

“Shit!” Ellie looked over the truck’s cabin. “Must’ve been Lev.”

Ellie climbed out of the truck, and distantly, Abby was aware of a few gunshots. Her pain had overtaken most of her awareness. Her pain pulsed with every heartbeat, rising higher and higher. She curled up on herself, completely useless.

The truck started moving again.

“Abby? You with me?”

“Fuck,” she groaned, breathing hard against her pain.

When Abby opened her eyes, Ellie was crouched over her, her brows drawn, her gaze focused, and her switchblade in hand. At the sound of the blade snapping open, Abby flinched back without conscious thought. She raised her arm and heard herself gasp in fear.

For a frozen moment, they stared at each other. Abby watched Ellie’s eyes widened; she visibly blanched. Ellie lowered her right hand slowly, her grip loosening on the knife in hand. Abby saw Ellie’s horror through her own and slumped onto her side in exhaustion.

 _“Abby?”_ The radio crackled, and Lev’s worried voice came through. Ellie and Abby both started. Ellie fumbled with the radio in Abby’s tacvest.

“Lev? It’s Ellie. Is my family there? Did you see them?”

 _“Ellie?”_ The voice on the radio was not Lev.

Ellie leaned forward to rest her forehead on the radio, her face twisted in emotion. She bit her lip and gathered herself to reply, “Hey, babe. Are you okay? Where’s JJ?”

_“He’s here. He’s safe. James and Cat are here.”_

“Robin?”

_“She’s in the truck with the kids.”_

“Fuck,” Ellie murmured breathlessly. She wiped her tears away, but she was crying again when a boy’s voice crackled through the radio. _“Mommy?”_

“Hey, JJ. I owe you a hundred movie nights.”

_“I want you.”_

“I know, baby. We’ll see each other at the dam. I fucking promise you.” She shook her head and rested the mouthpiece against her forehead as she collected herself. “Just a little while longer, buddy. Can I talk to Mama again?”

_“She’s crying.”_

Ellie worked her mouth and wiped her eyes. Her voice was high in pain. “Okay. Better keep it quiet until we get to the dam. I’ll…see you soon. I swear.”

She bit her lip and sniffed, wiping her eyes again. Then Ellie nodded at Abby. “Can I get that off of you? No knife.”

Abby groaned as she rolled to help Ellie pull the jacket out from under her. Ellie yanked at the velcro that secured the tacvest. The hard pull hurt, but as soon as that first clasp opened and the pressure around her pulsing back released, Abby gasped in relief. She ducked her head as Ellie pulled it off.

“Can you lie on your stomach? Here.”

Ellie shoved her coat under Abby’s belly, and the slight curve it put in her spine was another relief. She grunted as the pressure came off her back. Ellie pushed up the back of her t-shirt and hissed. Abby guessed it had more to do with what the bullet had done to her than her scars, though she mumbled, “I know. My lats _are_ pretty impressive.”

“Greg, is there a first aid kit up there?”

He passed it through the back window as Ellie fumbled with Abby’s belt. She sliced through the tape and pulled the pants down to Abby’s knees. Then she cut through Abby’s underwear on the left side, leaving her bare-assed in the wind.

“At least buy me a beer first.”

“I’m taken.”

“Said as you paw my ass.” Then Ellie sprayed something that stung like lightning across her wounds. “ _Fuck!_ What is that?”

“Lidocaine and iodine. We use it on cow feet.”

Abby blinked out a few reflexive tears. “Gross.”

“It’s clean in the bottle, dick. Doesn’t look too deep at least. You have a few small bleeders, but nothing big. Feeling any better?”

It did just a little, once the stinging dissipated. Ellie’s bandage didn’t hurt quite as much this time, and she only wrapped a portion of the wound. Abby wanted to look at her own ass, but her back wouldn’t let her take the angle.

“My back?”

“Not much penetration, but you’re bruised and have a nasty burn. You might be pissing blood for a while. Your shoulders or belly hurt?”

“No more than usual. How many times did he shoot me?”

“Two, I think.” Ellie sank down onto the bed beside her with a long sigh. She tossed Abby’s jacket over her bare ass and pulled her shirt back down. She took a few moments to shove the dead Rattler out of the truck bed unceremoniously. Sitting again, she fumbled with the tacvest, using her fingertips and her knife to free something from it. Her hands shook and her breath came uneven as she studied it.

“Ellie… Can you ask Lev if he’s okay?”

She glanced up in surprise. “Sorry.” Ellie raised the radio to her mouth. “Lev, Abby wants to make sure you’re okay.”

_“I’m not hurt. Where is she?”_

“Mooning the world.”

_“It’s daytime.”_

At Ellie’s questioning look, Abby held out her hand. “He doesn’t know what that means.” She put the radio to her mouth and said, “I got shot in the ass, Lev.”

_“Are you okay?”_

“I’m fine. Over and out.”

_“I’m not saying that.”_

Abby chuckled as she set the radio aside. Her pain had eased, but she was running on empty. Abby turned her gaze to Ellie and watched her finger the melted bullet in her palm. Thinking of Dina, of Ellie, and of their little boy, Abby asked, “Why’d you come back for me?”

Ellie didn’t meet her gaze as she passed over a canteen. Her answer was a shrug. Abby wondered at the aching feeling inside and had to acknowledge to herself she was disappointed.

Abby drained the canteen, not liking how thirsty she still was. As she handed the canteen back, Abby saw the bite mark on Ellie’s left arm. It was fresh, bleeding cleanly. Abby touched her right ear, remembering the clack of the infected’s teeth.

“Is that…?”

Ellie glanced at her arm and shrugged again. She rolled a melted bullet in her palm before pocketing it.

“Ellie, did you stick your arm in that thing’s mouth so it wouldn’t bite me?”

“Guess so,” Ellie mumbled.

Abby watched her a moment longer, feeling her disappointment ease into something that wasn’t quite gratitude. Fuck it. Even if it didn’t mean anything to Ellie, it meant something to Abby. It wasn’t like Ellie was in a position to engage. She had to be worried about Jackson and her family. Abby didn’t think commiserating about hearing the WLF destroy itself on the radio would be welcome conversation.

Abby had plenty of things to be curious about though. The biggest one was how the fuck Ellie had gotten out of that lab.

“So how’d you steal the wire?”

“What?”

“In the lab.”

Ellie glanced over; her brow gathered. “It was a guitar string.”

Abby pictured the bloodbath again and considered the ingenuity of it. She wondered how much built up rage had fueled that horrific death. “Shit. That’s brutal.”

“Didn’t exactly have a golf club lying around.”

The words landed like a physical blow. Abby turned her face away. She’d known she was treading too close, that she didn’t have any fucking right.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Abby asked bitterly. “I’d rather you just say it. So fucking say it.”

“The three at the aquarium. It wasn’t Tommy. It was me.”

She’d been gearing up to take Ellie’s lashes, but those words floored her. It was a gentle stirring of pain, but she realized that in the time she might have thought it important to pinpoint who exactly had committed each act, she’d found a way to move on. Whether Tommy or Ellie or Dina had done it, there was no point in hanging onto Owen and Mel’s deaths, just like there was no reason to replay the pain of that last bitter exchange between each of them.

Then she realized what Ellie had said: the three. Abby lifted her gaze, surprised when Ellie looked her in the eye.

“Does that make you regret all you’ve done for me?”

The truth was, “No.”

“Why did you do it?”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“Like taking two bullets for my son?”

“That was just instinct,” Abby admitted.

Ellie was silent for a pregnant moment, drawing Abby’s curious gaze. Ellie’s brow was pulled, her mouth in a straight, pinched line, her eyes bright with something strong. “How can you be like this and have done that to him?”

Abby closed her eyes and rested her cheek back on the dirty truck bed. It felt like balancing on top of that crane a thousand feet off the ground. She felt like she’d tip in either direction and tumble and never find her feet again. Abby was breathless and terrified as she admitted, “Because I’m a piece of shit. I hardly remember him. But you? I’ll never forget you.”

“I guess we should talk about it, shouldn’t we?”

“I think I have to.” She wasn’t fucking ready, but she never would be. The truth came out, and it shocked even her. “I think… I think I need you to forgive me, but I know I don’t have that right. I didn’t do any of this for that, but… If you can forgive me, then maybe I’m not such a piece of shit, you know?”

“Forgive you,” Ellie replied woodenly. She shook her head. “The only thing I could forgive you for is him.”

“Okay,” Abby murmured. She’d let herself be validated that Ellie had saved her life, but she knew as well as anyone that saving a person’s life didn’t always mean anything more than the way instinct blew. Abby wiped her wet cheek against her shoulder. She could feel Ellie’s gaze on her and knew she was going to have to accept that answer.

“Is it really that important?”

“Guess so.”

Ellie sighed. She tugged at her fingers, glancing up at the sky with her own eyes wet. “I’m not like you. I can’t.”

Abby nodded jerkily. Her swallow caught, and that leaded weight dropped into her chest again for the first time since they’d started this strange journey. “I understand,” she managed. “I am sorry. I would do it differently if I had the chance.”

When she looked up, Ellie was looking back at her with perplexity, maybe pity too. Abby was surprised when Ellie quietly said, “Me too.”

She closed her eyes, fighting the pain that ratcheted up higher with every jostle and jolt of the truck. Part of her wished Ellie would climb into the truck cabin and leave Abby alone back here. She didn’t want to see Ellie reflect her shame for having the gall to ask Ellie to forgive her. Or see her pity for needing that forgiveness.

Then, abruptly, Ellie broke their strained silence. “I grew up in Boston QZ. Military prep. How about you?”

Ellie’s tone was entirely removed from that last exchange. Abby hesitated until Ellie met her gaze briefly.

“I was born in Chicago, but I don’t remember it. My dad moved me to Salt Lake City when I was still a baby. Weren’t Military Preps for orphans?”

That question earned a furrowed brow, but Ellie didn’t disengage. She reached over to readjust Abby’s ass cover when it slipped. “Yeah. My mother died having me.”

“Me too. Well, from eclampsia.”

“That sucks.”

“I had my dad, though. You have a guardian or anything?”

When Ellie met her gaze, Abby had to look away. They both knew the unspoken answer. She wished she could snatch that question back. Then Ellie shrugged and said, “FEDRA assigned me some military hardnose. The guy told me I wasn’t worth his trouble. I went through all three preps in Boston.”

“Why?”

“I kept getting in more trouble. Fighting, stealing, sneaking out. He busted me up pretty bad last time we saw each other.”

Maybe the FEDRA picture was taken after that particular ‘busting up’ happened. “What was his name?”

“Bradshaw. How old are you?”

“Turned twenty-seven last month. You?”

“Twenty-six in a couple months. Any siblings?”

“Nope. Just me. But I grew up with a bunch of Fireflies in the making. You have any friends in Boston?”

“Just Riley. She was a badass. She defected to join the Fireflies.”

“Ever think about joining her?”

“Fuck no,” Ellie replied with a snort. “I wanted to live, not get blown up at a checkpoint. Did you see much combat in Salt Lake City? Before Joel, I mean.”

Ellie had said it so easily. Abby pushed past that memory of her father bleeding on the floor. “No. Mostly predators from the zoo and some infected. My dad was always sneaking off to check on the animals.”

“Joel and I stopped to pet a giraffe there. It was so fucking cool.” Ellie smiled down at her hands. “Wonder if they’re still doing okay.”

“Probably, yeah. My dad used to say their only natural predator was humans. Hey, how’d you get out of Boston? I always heard it’s harder to get out of QZs than in them.”

“The answer’s a little…complicated.”

“Based on our QZ escape, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Ellie reflected Abby’s smile briefly. “Well, my mother was friends with Marlene.”

“Firefly Marlene?”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously? Small fucking world.”

“The knife was my mother’s.” She pulled it from her back pocket but didn’t open it, instead tapping it firmly against her kneecap. “I thought I lost it on that beach. Apparently one of these Rattlers found it and brought it with him. I killed him with it.”

“Good riddance. You said your friend defected to join the Fireflies?”

“Yeah. She snuck me out one last time because they were going to reassign her to a different QZ. Then…”

Abby waited, watching Ellie stroke the tattoo on her right arm before she tapped the moth with two fingers. “We got bit. She turned. I didn’t. When I went to find Marlene, she said she’d smuggle me out, get me to a Firefly hospital out west for the cure. She hired Joel to do it. Did he… Was Marlene at that hospital?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he kill her too?” Ellie asked dully.

“Yeah.”

Ellie nodded wordlessly, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Did you have to kill her?”

“Who?”

“Riley.”

The look Ellie turned on her was bare pain. “I couldn’t do it.”

“That sucks.”

Ellie sighed. “She wasn’t the last. We had so many other people turn or die for us to make it to Salt Lake City. I would have given my life for the cure, and he knew that. So he fucking lied to me. He said the Fireflies stopped looking for the cure, that it didn’t mean anything. When I found out the truth, I froze him out for years. The night before you killed him, I told him I was ready to start over.”

There was nothing Abby could say except, “Ellie? Thanks for coming back for me.”

Ellie shook her head, meeting Abby’s eyes with a contemplative look. “After the last few days, we’re even.”

* * *

By the time they rolled into the dam, it was late afternoon, and Abby and Ellie knew more than a few random facts about their preferences in movies, games, and music. Abby recommended a couple science fiction authors to Ellie based on her love of space, and Ellie humored her by listening to Abby’s breakdown of her exercise regime.

“Why doesn’t this feel weirder?” Abby asked Ellie finally.

“Speak for yourself. This is really fucking weird,” was Ellie’s dry reply. She shook her head. “Everything feels weird now.”

“It’ll be okay.”

Ellie released a long sigh, her gaze on her hands.

There was a whistle as their truck pulled into the dam, and even knowing Lev as long as she had, that whistle made Abby flinch. Abby could only see that they passed tall walls to enter a small courtyard. Ellie reclaimed her coat and climbed over the side of the truck bed. As Abby watched, she stood with her back straight and seemed fixated on something beyond them.

“Abby?”

She jerked around and gasped in pain at the movement. Lev clambered up into the truck bed with her, pulling away the jacket that covered her ass. His indrawn breath was short, and he hid his alarm well as he helped her belt her pants closed again.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, trying to judge him despite her poor angle.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Al’s inside in the infirmary.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah. Can you make it?”

“Just help me out of the truck.”

Abby needed the help of both Lev and Greg, the man driving their truck, to roll out of the truck bed and limp her way to the building attached to the dam. She was fading fast.

The infirmary had a few beds, and Alyssa had already taken it over. Abby collapsed into one, rolling onto her stomach with a groan. Alyssa pointed at the bed beside Abby’s. “That one’s for Ellie. Someone go get her.”

By the time Abby noticed Ellie in the bed beside her, she was well into happy land from the drugs Alyssa had given her.

“Thanks for the morphine, FEDRA,” she mumbled against the sheet below her. She murmured contentedly as Alyssa and Lev both sutured her ass and thigh, raising a hand to wave at Ellie and JJ.

“Will I live, Al?” Abby slurred.

“Given the wounds I’ve seen you heal from, undoubtably.”

“You mean indubitably. Or undoubtedly.”

“What?”

”She’s being weird about words,” Lev said.

“Indubitably, Rattlers got nothing on sharks.”

Alyssa bent over to catch her gaze. “You were lucky.”

“I don’t deny it.”

“You got bit by a shark?” Ellie asked with sudden attention.

“A great white shark,” Lev clarified. He lifted the twine of his necklace to display the donated tooth, which made JJ shuffle closer and gasp.

“Ow…” Abby glanced back at Alyssa, who gave her an apologetic wince. Local block was fading then.

“JJ,” Ellie nudged her son. “This crazy lady split a bloater’s head in half with a machete yesterday.”

“Your mom stuck a pipe in it though. Saved me.”

“Just returning the favor.”

“You came back for me. You didn’t have to do that,” Abby mumbled, closing her eyes. Then she wasn’t aware of much else.

* * *

Abby woke a lot more painful than she’d been asleep. The infirmary was quiet and dark. She hissed as she craned her head around, taking in the padded bandage that ran nearly the length of her thigh. Her back wasn’t happy with her movement, and she sank back down on her belly. Except…

Lev and Alyssa discovered her hobbling to the marked bathroom, and they escorted her there. Thankfully there was a wooden platform constructed so Abby didn’t have to squat. She set her leg out to the side and concentrated on doing her business.

On the way back to her bed, she noted the few Jackson citizens who were resting as well. She had the vague recollection of Ellie being here; she must have discharged herself. Then Abby remembered with a jolt that Ellie had been bitten protecting Abby from infection.

Had that strange conversation in the truck really happened? Had fucking Jackson actually happened?

“How’s Ellie?”

“Bruised, but she should be fine with rest.”

Instead of falling on her belly, Abby rested on her right side, propping her injured leg with a pillow. She dragged the sheet over her bare ass. She was exhausted and painful, but her concentration wasn’t shot yet.

Alyssa and Lev pulled up chairs, looking serious. “Are you recovered enough to talk about next steps?”

“We can’t go back to Catalina Island,” Alyssa said.

“Why not? We have to have a good lie, but we could figure out a way to say it was a failure. Even I can lie if I really need to.”

“Do you want to go back?” Lev asked more pointedly.

Abby hesitated. She’d assumed they’d both be raring to get back home. She glanced between them. “Okay, where do you want to go?”

“Do we have to go?” Alyssa asked.

“We can’t stay here. Maybe you can, but I…wouldn’t be welcome.”

“Why not? You just helped save the people they have left.”

“Trust me, Al. They won’t let me stay.”

Alyssa leaned back in her chair, her gaze almost aggressive in its focus. “So we’re really giving up on the cure? On your father’s vision?”

Ah. Alyssa wanted to stay with Ellie in the hopes of studying her. Should Abby be disappointed by that? “Do you think she’ll leave her family behind to follow us back to Catalina Island for Yasmin’s version of what she just survived?”

“I wonder if anyone ever actually asked her to help.”

“Jesus, how selfish.”

“Is it? Asking someone to help find the cure or treatment or vaccine for the untreatable disease that’s destroying humanity?”

“It’s her fucking life, Al!”

“And everyone else’s.”

“She has a family!”

“Okay,” Lev interjected quickly. “We’re not going anywhere until you heal, Abby. We have time to decide.” He paused, met her gaze, and repeated, “Are you going to be okay going back to the island?”

She thought of the people she knew and the comfortable living they’d carved within the community. And despite Yasmin, despite the Rattlers, despite the lie that would hang over her, Abby realized the answer was, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Why was this so important to you?” Alyssa asked.

Abby couldn’t meet her gaze; she could hear the disapproval well enough without seeing it. When Alyssa left them to attend to a few more patients on the other side of the room, Lev settled on a chair beside Abby and studied her. Abby offered him a tense smile.

“You’re really okay?”

“I got grazed by a bullet; that’s it.” He glanced around. “They need people to help clear out Jackson. You okay if I volunteer?”

Sometimes Lev made her goddamn proud. She offered him a smile, studying the handsome lines of his face. “They’d probably appreciate the help.”

“Are you good now, Abby? Really?”

She thought of that conversation in the truck, Ellie’s quiet denial of forgiveness but that strange peace that settled over them as they talked about their pasts. Ellie said they were even; that had to be enough. Fuck, it was better than she could have hoped. Abby looked up at Lev and nodded. Whatever Lev saw on her face made him smile affectionately. He plucked something from his pocket and set it in her palm.

Abby flipped the coin over curiously. There was a hole in the center of it, and the writing… Japanese, maybe? “Cool,” she said, flipping it over again. When she met his gaze, he smiled again. “Thanks for being here for me, Lev.”

“You’re my people.”

It took her a moment to find her voice. “Love you too, dude.”

He studied her a moment longer before he said, “Rest. We’ll figure it all out later.”

* * *

The first time Abby managed to sneak Alyssa out on the boat with Lev, their trip ended more eventfully than it started. They left Avalon just before dawn, checked out a boat, and rounded the curve of the island before Avalon stirred. They fished for a few hours, laughing and joking. They wouldn’t hit quota today, but that wasn’t the point.

Seeing Alyssa in beachwear, grinning as she posted with the bow of the boat, making Lev laugh so hard he choked on his water, that was why Abby had finagled this trip. She’d called in more than a few favors; scavenging the mainland had its perks that way. Despite her initial protests, Alyssa seemed to be having the time of her life.

It was shaping up to be the best day Abby had had since Salt Lake City.

After lunch, Abby set down the anchor for some surfing. It was a pastime that Yasmin didn’t approve of, but when Yasmin thought Abby was a blonde muscle-headed bimbo, what the fuck did it matter? Lev was nervous to get in the water so Abby sat on her board and said, “What’s that I hear? A chicken?” Then she clucked, her volume rising until Lev laughed, tossed the second surfboard into the water, and dove in too. Half a dozen more chicken clucks couldn’t coax Alyssa into the water.

“I’ll enjoy my beer and make sure the boat doesn’t get stolen,” was her grinning reply.

“Who’s gonna steal it?” Abby asked, opening her arms in question.

“A shark,” was Alyssa’s retort.

“Her loss,” Abby told Lev, who grinned wide enough to crease his scars.

Abby was adept at surfing because Jo refused to end a fishing trip without catching a few waves. Abby liked to imagine Owen teasing, “Of course you’re good at this too.”

With almost no input, Lev was surer than her on the board, but that was no surprise. He was so dang graceful, whether he was leaping between posts hundreds of feet off the ground or popping up to his feet on a wave.

They’d both caught a couple of good waves when Lev’s expression shifted from a smile into open terror. Abby jerked her head around fully expecting this to be a prank, but she turned just in time to see a massive shark fin accelerating towards her.

If she’d had time, she would have told herself she _had_ chosen to surf in a place called Shark Harbor.

The force of the shark’s blow tossed Abby from the board in a dizzying strike. Abby surfaced and swam hard for the boat, fueled purely by instinctual fear. Another circumstance of evolutionary behavior, huh? Still, she shoved Lev into the boat in front of her before Lev and Alyssa bodily yanked her out of the water. Abby landed hard on her ass in the bottom of the boat and finally saw the chunk of skin she’d lost on her right shin.

She hadn’t even felt it.

Alyssa wrapped her leg in a towel, and Lev held it tight. After the shock of those moments, they were all silent as they looked at each other. Alyssa pulled up the towel and blotted the wound. It was bleeding freely but not badly.

Abby gave into her compulsion to laugh, which prompted a grin and swear from Lev. Alyssa, however, pressed both hands against her face. She breathed into them for a moment before wiping her face and gathering herself. Alyssa held onto that control until Lev pulled Abby’s surfboard into the boat. They all stared at the three-foot-semicircle bitten out of it. If Abby had been lying prone, she’d be dead. Lev plucked out a large tooth from the surfboard, his eyes wide.

He looked at the tooth on his palm and said, “That was a great white.”

Alyssa’s eyes glazed with tears. Her voice trembled as she asked, “Can you get us back to Avalon, Lev? Please.”

“Better than her,” Lev replied in a shaky attempt at a joke.

“Jerk,” Abby replied. She reached out to touch Alyssa’s hand. “Hey, Al? I’m okay. That was actually kind of awesome. I just got bit by a shark!”

Alyssa nodded wordlessly. She wiped at her face harshly, pulling out the boat’s first aid kit. She doctored Abby’s leg as best she could with her limited supplies, her hands shaking. Abby couldn’t quite hide that her pain was escalating by the time they approached Avalon.

There was a crowd of curious Fireflies waiting for them on the docks. Jo clambered into the boat, and despite Abby’s protests, he picked Abby up with grunt and climbed back onto the docks. Then Yasmin pushed through the crowd, her furious gaze fixed on Abby. She opened her mouth to launch into an indubitably sharp rebuke—which was a little hilarious with Abby cradled in Jo’s arms. Then Alyssa stepped between them, raised her hand, and said, “Not now. _Move_.”

It was the only time Abby ever saw Yasmin balk. Alyssa led them to the golf cart waiting to zip them up to her clinic, and once inside, she managed to shift her agitation into efficient energy, something that reminded Abby of her dad when she’d broken her arm as a kid.

Jo announced he was going to go down to the docks to help Lev unload and clean up. Then Jo being Jo, he made a lewd gesture that made Abby blush. Thank god Alyssa didn’t see him or Abby would combust of mortification.

It was something to see her doctor in a sports bra, tiny shorts, and sandals. Within a few minutes, Abby was happy enough from her drugs—pain meds, local black, and antibiotics—to not be self-conscious about the fact she enjoyed watching Alyssa work.

“That wasn’t even scary. I fought an infected that had, like, twelve arms.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re lucky?” was Alyssa’s quiet reply. She was bent over Abby’s shin, closing the last bit of skin with another neat suture.

“I’ve heard that, yeah. Al, are you okay?”

Alyssa offered Abby a soft smile. “You’re sweet, Abby.”

“I am definitely not sweet.”

“You were the one who almost died today.”

Abby reached out, cupping Alyssa’s cheek. “But you’re upset.”

Then, to Abby’s shock, Alyssa cupped Abby’s hand in her own, turned her head, and pressed a kiss into her palm in an intimate gesture.

Then Abby opened her big mouth and said, “Yasmin isn’t going to be happy with either of us, is she?”

As soon as Alyssa’s smile dimmed, Abby wished she could snatch those words back. She set Abby’s hand back on the sheets and patted it clinically. “Abby, you and Lev are the best part of this place. Do me a favor and don’t get yourself killed.”

“You’re pretty great too.”

Then Alyssa laughed, clear and pretty. She rested her elbow on the bed beside Abby’s leg, her glasses going askew when she propped herself against her hand. “You really like your drugs, don’t you?” Another impersonal pat. “Rest. When Jo comes by, he can get you home.”

“You could take me home.”

Alyssa stilled, looked over her shoulder, and opened her mouth. But the door to the clinic opened, and Yasmin strode in, and that was the end of whatever Alyssa had considered saying.

Intermittently, Abby would consider that kiss against her hand and wonder if she imagined it in the haze of her high. It didn’t take much introspection to know she’d take whatever Alyssa offered her, platonic or not.

* * *

Eating was a difficult thing, but if she gradually settled her weight, she could rest on her left glute. Her back was just as painful, but Lev made it his goal to give her every spare pillow in the building.

As Abby ate a meal of beans and venison, she looked around. This was clearly a storage room that had been turned into an infirmary. The whole place hummed with electricity. Only a few others remained in the infirmary, resting quietly.

There was one window, but it looked out onto a brick wall.

Alyssa lay in one of the beds, Tara’s laptop propped in her lap and her glasses sliding down her nose. She’d taken out her braids, leaving her hair in an uncharacteristically haphazard arrangement. It was a soft change, closer to what Abby was used to from the island. Alyssa had been consumed by what they’d stolen from the CBI lab, which made her seem so far away. With Lev out helping Jackson, Abby was a little lonely.

Abby occupied herself reading the book she’d packed, but she’d already read it more than a dozen times.

Healing was boring as shit.

“Mind if I sit?”

Abby looked up in surprise at a stern blond woman that took the seat next to her bed without waiting for a reply. The woman studied her silently; from the expression on her face, she knew exactly who Abby was and what she’d done. Abby didn’t recognize her.

She wished she could go back to bored.

“Uh…hey. I’m—” Her voice was frustratingly weak. She held out her hand to shake.

“I know who you are.” The woman leaned back in her chair and ignored Abby’s hand. She looked like she hadn’t just gone through the Rattlers’ torture camp. “My name is Maria, and I run things around here.”

Abby didn’t want things to end this way, whether by death sentence or getting kicked out on her ass. The hardest part about the situation was that she had no right to rebut anything this woman said.

“I’m not going to bother listing your crimes. You know them better than I do. Just know that that girl will never be the same after what she saw you do to Joel. She loved that man like a father.”

Abby worked her jaw but remained silent.

“You have guts to show up back here.”

To that she had a response. “What was I gonna do? Dump her at the gates?”

“Yeah. Or outside that QZ. Or steal her for yourself.” Maria’s voice was hard. “Usually when someone does what you did to one of ours, we’d hang you. You know who vouched for you? Ellie. That’s the only reason why I’m not turning you out in the cold. She says you saved her life, saved JJ. You helped us save Jackson. Quite frankly, I don’t care if you did it out of the goodness of your heart or because you have all your evil weighing on your soul.

“I’m not going to pretend my husband didn’t have a hand in what happened in Seattle, but I pray you remember what happened if you ever take it into your head to interrupt someone else’s life for whatever brand of justice you carry.”

“Your husband?”

“Tommy.”

“Shit,” Abby breathed, remembering his bite abruptly. He must have turned by now. “I’m sorry.”

Maria paused, her eyes going glassy. By the time she stood over Abby’s bed, she was steady again. “I’ll say it once. If you have hopes of taking her away from us again for some bullshit cure, I’ll shoot you before you get out the gates.”

“I fucking hope so.”

Maria gave her another long look, her gaze lingering on the book in Abby’s hands—or maybe the scars that marked her left arm. “As it stands, you’re welcome to stay while you heal. I’d offer supplies for your trip back, but we don’t have any to spare.”

“Thank you.”

A nod was Abby’s only reply. Then Maria was striding away like she had someplace else to be.

When Alyssa found food for them both, she lingered. “What was that about?”

“That’s why I’m not welcome.”

“What did you do?”

Abby set aside her book. She’d seen Alyssa’s evil. Why not air out more of her own?

“They don’t tell you the truth in stories. It’s always cathartic, you know? Maddie shooting Tom, Carrie’s rampage, hell, Lisbeth Salander tattooing Bjurman.” She shrugged. “Didn’t go that way for me. I kept waiting for it to feel right, but… Never did.”

“You haven’t read the right stories, then.”

She glanced up in surprise; then she scoffed. Never in her life had she been accused of not reading enough. “What? _The Count of Monte Cristo?_ He got his revenge and his lover.”

“At what cost? What about _Wuthering Heights? Hamlet?_ ”

“I never liked Bronte. And Shakespeare doesn’t count.”

Alyssa’s smile was surprisingly affectionate. “None of those stories have a happy ending, not even _True Grit_.”

“Fuck a happy ending. All I wanted was to feel good killing him. That’s what’s misrepresented. It didn’t feel like retribution or vindication. I beat him to death, Al. He was at my mercy. I kept waiting for it to feel like the right thing, but the only thing I ever felt was numb.”

“Who?”

“Joel Miller. The smuggler from Salt Lake.” She nodded at Alyssa’s recognition. “I didn’t consider he had a family. I didn’t just lose my friends or the only person I’d ever…” She shook her head. She’d made her peace with it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t regret not telling Owen she loved him. “They died because of what I did that day, and what I did was so fucking empty. I have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

Alyssa picked up Abby’s book before dropping it again. “So now you’re trying to be your own _Kite Runner_?”

Abby shook her head. “Don’t…”

“Is that really what this entire fucking mess was about? It wasn’t enough to betray Miguel and get her out of the QZ, but we had to bring her home, clear Rattlers out of her hometown in bumfuck nowhere for your retribution?!” Alyssa studied her a moment. “I can’t believe you.”

“Like you can talk.”

“What?”

How dare Alyssa pretend to be coy? “As if that torch and burn operation at that lab was part of the bigger plan. That was just as much about you hiding your shame as stopping that body horror program!”

Alyssa deflated, sinking back against the bed behind her. Her sadness sapped all of Abby’s anger. “See… That’s where you’re wrong again. It had nothing to do with protecting anyone. That was just an unintended consequence.”

She seemed so small and defeated in the moment. Her arms were crossed, her head tucked, her so-welcome features solemn. Abby ached for Alyssa’s happiness and mourned the sadness she read in her how.

“You were going to kill yourself in that lab, weren’t you?”

“That was the original plan.”

“And Ellie?”

“I’d like to think I would have helped her escape, but honestly, I didn’t consider her at all until I realized you knew her.”

Abby didn’t believe that for a second. “Al, she saved my life in Santa Barbara. She saved Lev too. I can’t just forget that.”

Alyssa stilled. Her gaze moved down Abby’s body as she studied the scars that crisscrossed her skin.

“It wasn’t the Rattlers. It was her. _She_ butchered you.” She shook her head, incensed and incredulous in one. “She decided to exact her own revenge when you were strung up by the Rattlers?! And you think you owe her?!”

Abby was startled by Alyssa’s vitriol.

“She left you for dead on that beach after half-drowning you and—”

“No. She let me go.”

“You were dying, Abby.”

She shook her head in denial.

“That was my first day on Catalina Island too. You and Lev were my first cases as an honest-to-god doctor since school. I didn’t think I could fix you. She cut you apart, Abby. And I can only guess you looked like this—” She gestured at Abby’s body. “—before they worked you to the bone. She must have known what they did to you.”

“She let me go, Al.”

“It all makes even less sense than what I thought. God, I was sure that you were lovers. I can understand doing this for love. But guilt?”

Abby gasped out a laugh at the very thought. “I nearly beat her to death in Seattle. I was going to cut Dina’s throat—kill her and her baby—because Ellie killed all my friends.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Only because of Lev. Al, I’m not…” She was so sick of this bigger dick argument. “This isn’t about who’s worse. I don’t give a fuck about that, but I’m not better than you. I don’t care if you killed a thousand people in that lab.”

“Maybe the only reason you feel that way is because your father worked in that lab too.”

“Did he run it?” she asked quietly.

Alyssa deflated. “He and Dr. Renan Acosta established the program.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t see the point in tainting your memory of him.”

“I was just thinking the other day that my dad showed more remorse over killing a lion than killing Ellie. That doesn’t change the fact I love him. I love his memory.”

“Maybe that’s your problem.”

That pissed her off. “So why am I a good person, and he isn’t? Or you?”

“Because you aren’t that person anymore. Abby, aren’t your actions over the last week proof of that?”

“Torturing that guy was really big of me, huh?”

“That was for her.”

“Why do any of this then? So why stay the course with me instead of ending it in that lab?”

“Didn’t I say? The only thing that would justify it is love.”

“Tara?”

“No, Abby. Not Tara. Not Yasmin either.”

Abby stilled as she processed that quiet declaration. “Me?”

When she raised her gaze, Alyssa offered a defeated smile. She knit her fingers together and shrugged, looking ten years younger in a moment. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Abby examined her feelings for that proclamation, and goddamn if every one of them was positive. She felt hope for the first time in years. She’d wanted more with Alyssa for so long that the declaration that Alyssa did too made her anticipate what they could be together. This moment existed apart from the hell of the last week and the uncertainty of their future.

Alyssa shook her head, her dark eyes tracking from Abby’s mouth to her eyes and back. “Sometimes you look at me as if you want more too.”

She felt her smile dampen. “Why do you think I don’t?”

“You’re straight.”

“Who said that?” Abby asked incredulously. She reached out, took Alyssa’s hand, and pulled her close. Alyssa came willingly. The brush of their lips, the closeness of Alyssa’s cheeks against hers, and her shaky exhale were so much. Abby had never seriously imagined this, but it was better than she could have guessed. Abby pulled Alyssa closer, firming her touch and her kiss, but Alyssa pushed away with her palm on Abby’s chest.

It took a moment to center herself again. Alyssa remained just out of reach, studying Abby’s face as if memorizing her. Abby offered a smile, reaching out to stroke the back of her finger over Alyssa’s cheek. This was the closest she’d felt to another person in so long. Abby reveled in the soft affection that swept over her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Alyssa replied softly. She smoothed her thumb over Abby’s lower lip and bit her own, tears filling her eyes abruptly. “We can’t do this.”

“What’s stopping us?”

“I’m sorry.”

As if that choked apology wasn’t bad enough, Alyssa’s slow physical retreat put a fucking cap on it.

“Al? Talk to me. Please.”

“I can’t be the person you need, Abby.”

Alyssa turned away. Abby let her go, her gut dropping in disappointment. Was this some sort of divine retribution? She’d imagine Owen would laugh at her for being on this side of the situation, but Owen had never been cruel.

* * *

“I don’t want to interrupt your rest.”

Abby started. She set down her book to take in the two people standing at the foot of her bed. The woman clutched a tray of food close, her smile tentative. They were both of Asian descent and old enough to be mostly gray. The man was tall, and the woman was short. They stood awkwardly by the side of her bed after the woman set the food on Abby’s bedside table.

“Hey,” Abby replied, shifting to sit up a little more politely. She introduced herself and leaned forward with a wince to shake their hands.

“I’m Robin. This is my husband, James. We’re JJ’s grandparents.”

“Oh,” Abby replied uncertainly. Dina looked nothing like them, but maybe it was an adoptive relationship.

“Our son, Jesse, was JJ’s father.”

The convoluted lines of Ellie’s family were too much for Abby to parse in the moment.

“Ellie told us how you saved her and brought her home. And how you saved JJ. We wanted to thank you. I don’t know what we would have done if we’d lost either one. Dina would have been…” Robin swallowed back tears. “You kept our little family whole, and for that, you’re always welcome at our dinner table.”

Abby wasn’t expecting that. She looked back and forth between the couple, but all she saw was honesty. “Thank you.”

Robin reached out, ignored Abby’s flinch, and patted the back of her hand. “Lev tells me you eat like a horse so I took the initiative to bring you a little extra dinner.”

Abby managed a smile at that description. “Lev really knows how to flatter me, huh?”

“He loves you very much.”

Fuck. Abby bit her lip to fight her emotion, but she managed to pull out a smile.

Robin studied her, then patted her hand again. “I don’t know if you plan to stay in Jackson, but if you’re ever back in the area, invite yourself over for dinner.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

It was later, just as she faded into sleep, that she remembered Ellie’s choked gasp of horror: _‘Jesse!’_ Jesse Joel, JJ. Abby hadn’t spared a thought about the man she’d killed in the theater. She hadn’t even looked at his body as she chased after Ellie.

Shit.

She hadn’t expected to have to answer for his death because she’d completely forgotten about it. Jesus Christ, Jesse’s parents had been the ones who’d welcomed her into their home just hours ago. Did they know?

* * *

She awoke with a slow inhale, but when she opened her eyes, she gasped in shock and jolted hard enough to provoke pain. She pressed a hand against her face and offered a smile between her fingers at the little boy that stood by her bed and stared at her unabashedly. The clock on the wall indicated it was around dawn.

“JJ, what are you doing here?”

He kept staring. “What’s your name? I forgot.”

“Abby.” She grunted and shifted until she was sitting. “What’s up, dude?”

“Are you a trader?”

“No. I’m a Firefly.” Abby glanced him over, her gaze lingering on the bruises on his arm. They looked like fingerprints. She couldn’t remember exactly how everything went down in Jackson but had to acknowledge she might have been the one to leave those marks. “Hey, JJ?”

He glanced at her in the strangely neutral way of children.

“I’m sorry if I scared you in Jackson. I know I knocked you down pretty hard, but I didn’t want you to get hurt. I wasn’t mad. I was just trying to protect you.”

He nodded slowly. His murmured ‘okay’ was weak.

“You did good, big man. You saved my life too, saying those Rattlers were coming in.” Abby lifted her fist and waited. JJ glanced from her face to her hand, then his face shifted into a slow smile as he bumped his little fist against hers.

“How old are you?”

“Five.”

“This many?” She held up three fingers teasingly, provoking a scowl of annoyance and JJ’s irritated open palm. Abby replied, “Wow, okay! Five. You’re tall for your age.”

He shuffled shyly. Abby winced and shifted to look around. “Where are your moms?”

“They’re fighting,” he said. Then his eyes welled up with tears, and his expression crumpled. Abby felt a flush of terror come over her at the sight. She shifted off the bed and followed his retreat, wincing as she dropped to one knee to touch his shoulder.

“You and your moms have been through a lot in the last few months. They’re probably just trying to figure out what to do next.” When he didn’t respond, Abby tapped his shoulder with her finger. “You know what your mom asked me when I first saw her?”

He wiped at his face and shook his head.

“She told me about you and asked me to make sure you were safe. She said she’d do anything for you. Your mom, Ellie, she escaped a place she should never have been able to. She fought some bad guys, crossed the ocean, killed a bloater, and she fought the Rattlers after all that. And she did it just to get back to you. Because she loves you that much.”

Then he was in her arms, and Abby squeezed him tight as he shivered. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Jackson’s kids with the Rattlers. In Santa Barbara, they’d indoctrinated the children they picked up from their slave trapping. She prayed the Rattlers had only been in Jackson a short time, but that short time would be enough to scar them all.

“You’re going to be okay,” she told him quietly. “That was a bad time, and those were bad people. But they’re gone now, and your family is with you.”

“JJ?”

At the sound of Dina’s voice, Abby glanced up and relaxed her grip, but JJ stayed in the circle of her arms. Dina and Ellie stood in the doorway to the infirmary, each wearing different expressions as they took in the scene. Abby leaned back as JJ pulled away. He looked at her, and she smiled, raising her fist again. He bumped her knuckles with his own more firmly, his smile widening.

Abby shook her hand and pretended to hiss in pain. “That’s a strong punch, big guy. You training to be a boxer?”

“A what?”

“A… Well, better if you aren’t. They don’t usually have a lot of teeth.”

Whatever cool points she’d earned before were gone. JJ looked at her like she was crazy. He said, “Okay.”

Abby smiled and nodded to his parents, and he went to them. He seemed to sink into Ellie’s arms, burying his head against Ellie’s shirt. Dina crouched to murmur against his head and kiss him. Dina and Ellie exchanged a long look. As she turned away, their arms stretched until their clasped hands fell apart.

Ellie didn’t spare Abby or Dina a look as she turned to walk in the opposite direction, JJ’s hand in her own.

* * *

Abby was up and moving for the first time the next day, limping slowly across the hall neighboring the makeshift infirmary. Only one person was in the hallway, but he didn’t spare her a glance as she made her way outside. Over the walls of the dam’s fortification, the mountain face stretched high and beautiful. The morning air was clean and sharp with cold despite her borrowed jeans and coat.

The Salt Lake Crew, as Isaac liked to call them, had traveled this way towards Jackson five years ago. They’d fished on the northern shore before continuing their drive south. Abby could bring up and hold close the memory of the quiet, happy morning with Owen that turned bitter and dark so soon. She’d destroyed them with her hatred.

And now… She’d done the right thing in the last few days, or at least she’d done the wrong things for the right reason. Even if she knew the world didn’t repay doing right in kind, Alyssa’s avoidance stung. Abby’s requests to talk had been brushed off, and Lev was busy helping Jackson. She hadn’t seen Ellie since they’d parted at the infirmary.

What the fuck was she going to do? Now that Abby’s certain path of rightness was done, she felt unexpectedly adrift again. She felt no closer to happiness…maybe further from it given how teasingly close it had come. As she gazed across the lake, Abby murmured, “Is this happy, Owen?

She stood there long enough for the chill to set in before turning to limp back inside.

Abby paused in alarm when she overheard Alyssa’s angry voice in the infirmary. “…was dying! You saw what the Rattlers did to her, but you attacked her anyway—”

Fuck, no. “Alyssa!” Abby snapped as she rounded the doorframe.

Alyssa paused, stricken when she saw Abby. Ellie leaned against a clean infirmary bed, her arms folded, and her gaze directed at her feet. Alyssa looked between them, shook her head, and shot Abby a glower as she strode by.

“Trouble in paradise?” Ellie neutrally. Then she judged the expression on Abby’s face with a wince. “Sorry. Not used to polite society anymore.”

Abby heaved an exasperated sigh but reminded herself it hadn’t exactly been an easy week for any of them. She settled cautiously, leaving the majority of her left glute off the chair. “How are you?”

Ellie looked down at the wrap on her left arm. “You know I can’t get infected, right?”

“I meant…” Abby remembered JJ’s statement that his mothers were fighting. She waved at her own head and face. Ellie raised her brows and looked like she was trying to stare at the side of her own head. It was a strangely comical look. “And seeing your family again, you know.”

“Does it really not matter to you?”

“What?”

Ellie’s gaze moved over Abby’s face. “What I did to you in Santa Barbara.”

“Al’s just…protective.”

“Abby.”

“Did beating me on that beach stop your nightmares?” When Ellie looked away, Abby nodded. “Killing him didn’t stop mine either. I’m pretty fucking sure I get why you did it. The way I look at it… Some things matter more than others. You cut me down and you let me go.”

“And that’s what matters?”

“Yeah.”

Ellie sniffed and nodded, scratching her ear absently. Abby chewed on her lip as she remembered JJ’s grandparents welcoming her to Jackson. “Hey, do… JJ’s grandparents… Do they know?”

“That you killed their son? Yeah. I used to think it was crazy they could just move on, let go. Now I kind of envy it.”

Jesus Christ. Abby wasn’t sure them knowing felt better or worse. “It’s not easy.”

“Abby…”

“I didn’t mean… Everything I say to you isn’t some plea for forgiveness. I—”

“Hey.” Ellie raised a hand. “I get it.”

After an awkward moment, Abby said, “Maria told me you vouched for me. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Take whatever time you need to heal up. We’re headed back tomorrow.” She hesitated. “And…no matter what Maria says, you’re welcome in Jackson. For as long as you want.”

Ellie left Abby to ponder those words. Welcome in Jackson. But was she? Could she live in a place that would know her as Joel’s murderer? When Lev managed to corral both Abby and Alyssa together to talk about their next move, that thought sat at the forefront of her mind as she asked, “What do you want, Lev?”

Predictably, he said, “You first.”

“I know what I said, but I…don’t know if I want to go back to the island.” Abby drew a deep breath. “I know it’s not fair to you. You have a life—”

“Don’t speak for me, Abby.” He glanced at Alyssa. “What do you want, Al?”

“I want to find the cure,” she said bleakly, her gaze on her hands.

“Why do we have to have some noble cause? Can’t we just be happy?”

Alyssa was silent in the face of Abby’s plea. Atonement, retribution…it looked different to each of them didn’t it? She had the dull, aching thought that she was going to have to let Alyssa go.

“Even if I don’t go back, you can. Yasmin will take you, especially with the data. You can probably figure something out with—”

“Even if I could, why would I go back to that prison? The only thing that made that place bearable was you two. I want to go with you, wherever that is.”

Abby absorbed the weight of those words and felt the shackles of their past life open. They were free. Free of the Fireflies, of WLF, of the Seraphites and Rattlers, of the want of the cure. They could go wherever, do whatever... Or they could stay.

As Abby looked from Lev to Alyssa, she wondered why the fuck that didn’t actually make any of them happy.


	11. For better or worse

So many things had happened in the last hour in a cascade of terror and desperation and hope. From hearing those first gunshots—certain that Jim had made good on his threat to kill JJ—to seeing Jim dead in the mud to reuniting with JJ to recognizing Abby… Then JJ desperately leaping from the safety of the FEDRA truck to stay with her, and the fucking horde…

It wasn’t until Dina heard Ellie’s voice on the radio that everything crashed into her and all her desperately held control crumbled. She sobbed into her hands as she listened to Ellie promise JJ she would see him soon.

Tommy was dead. The threat of the Rattlers was gone, but Jackson might be too.

But Ellie was back.

Ellie was home.

James wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and held her close. He hushed her and rubbed her back as she sobbed against his chest. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“She’s back,” Dina gasped. Then JJ started crying too. She kissed his head as she choked back her emotions, but seeing James fighting tears nearly set her off again.

“Yeah,” James said with a choked laugh. “I held her, Dina.”

“How did she look?”

His smile was tense. “Scared.”

“Was she hurt?”

James shook his head. “Didn’t seem to be.”

Dina looked up at Lev, who sat high up on the wheel well of the truck bed. She’d held onto his leg to steady him as he nocked and loosed his arrow at the truck of Rattlers coming after them. Ellie was apparently not the only person reckless enough shoot explosives from a wooden bow.

Lev wore a jacket with a Firefly patch on one sleeve. The twin scars on his face were vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place that recognition. Abby had been wearing a FEDRA uniform. The other woman with them, who had also worn a Firefly jacket, had whisked the kids away in a marked FEDRA truck. FEDRA, Fireflies, and Ellie working together to rescue Jackson. It was inexplicable, but Ellie had always defied prediction.

Now Lev acknowledged Dina with a tilt of his head. “You were in the theater.”

That explained his recognition. “I don’t remember you.”

“I shot you,” Lev admitted, his face drawn in unhappy admission. “I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

“I guess you were protecting someone too.”

He offered her a tense smile.

“How did you join up with Ellie?”

That drew a few curious looks from the dozen Jackson citizens crammed in the back of the truck. Lev glanced around awkwardly. “We went to rescue her from FEDRA.”

“Why?”

“Abby wanted to save her.”

Those words didn’t make sense in combination. There was nothing but honesty on Lev’s face, but his truth couldn’t be right. Dina was just too fucking tired to dig further. She pulled JJ to her to kiss the crown of his head again. He was so still she thought he was asleep until he murmured, “I want Mommy.”

“I know. So do I. Just a little longer.”

* * *

There was evidence of freshly dead infected at the gates, but nothing stirred as their truck rolled into the dam’s fortified defenses. There were half a dozen trucks—including the large FEDRA vehicle—parked inside, and families milled around, reuniting in a mix of grief and joy.

It was chaos within the courtyard as families called out for family members, as kids were wrapped up tight, as Robin and James reunited with each other and JJ again. Poor Robin, who sobbed in Dina’s arms, apologizing that she hadn’t been able to hold onto JJ to keep him in the FEDRA truck.

“Ellie?!” she gasped desperately.

“She’s coming.” Dina reflected Robin’s hopeful smile.

When the last truck pulled up, Dina couldn’t believe her eyes. Ellie leapt out of the truck bed, all lanky grace, her movements so familiar. Funny to be so surprised to see her hair was shorter than Dina remembered. Ellie stopped only a few steps from the truck, surveying the crowd within Jackson. Then her gaze lit on Dina.

Everything about her crumpled.

For a frozen moment of horror, Dina thought Ellie was wounded. Ellie sank to her knees, cupped her hands in front of her face, and doubled over to sob. Dina was already running to Ellie without conscious thought of JJ, who was on her heels. She skidded on her knees in the mud, and the moment that Dina reached her, Ellie sank into her arms and sobbed against her. Ellie clutched Dina so tightly Dina wouldn’t have been able to pull away even if she wanted to.

“Are you hurt?”

When Ellie shook her head, Dina’s coiled fears released in a rush of relief.

“Oh, Ellie…” Dina’s tears were gentler than Ellie’s, but she cried all the same. Ellie finally let go of one of Dina’s arms to crush JJ to them. She pressed her mouth to the top of his head and sobbed so hard Dina thought her body would break.

Dina didn’t care about the mud, the blood on her arms, or their wounds. She didn’t care about Jackson’s citizens, the gate of the dam grinding closed, or Abby. She soaked in Ellie’s very presence, holding her as tightly as she could but still wanting to be closer.

Ellie was thin but solid in her arms, moving and real. Everything about her was familiar. Dina pressed her skin against Ellie’s, too focused on not breaking their contact to even consider kissing her. Ellie smelled like briny sewage, felt grimy with dirt, and her hair was greasy and tangled. As Dina stroked her fingertips through Ellie’s hair, she felt the prickliness of stumble on Ellie’s scalp. When Ellie’s sobs tapered off, Dina drew back and just looked. Ellie’s right eye was swelling shut, and her nose was bloodied and running. Nearly half of her head was shaved. She was so goddamn beautiful.

“Hey, babe.” Ellie gave a choked laugh that threatened to bring more tears. Dina pulled her back, only partly aware they were smothering JJ between them. JJ shifted, and Dina turned to kiss his tousled head.

Alive. Here. She’d told herself she knew Ellie would come back, but by her crushing relief, she’d started to believe otherwise.

The world righted itself finally, and the thing choking her for the last six months floated away on the breeze.

As Dina leaned close to kiss Ellie, Ellie pulled away, tucking her chin and leaving Dina to nuzzle her neck. Dina kissed the skin beneath her lips, noticing the bruise coming up on Ellie’s pale skin.

“You _are_ hurt.”

“Not bad.” Ellie rested her forehead against Dina’s. Dina again tilted her mouth, but Ellie ducked away, pressing a kiss against JJ’s head. “Hey, Tater. God, I’m so glad to see you,” she murmured. JJ wiggled closer to wrap his arms around Ellie’s neck. His own little face was wet with tears; he screwed his eyes shut and held tight.

Then Ellie looked up at James and Robin standing over them, her face opened in hope. It hurt Dina to let her go, but she did. She shadowed Ellie as Ellie climbed to her feet with JJ still wrapped around her torso like a baby possum.

She collapsed into their hugs, and then hugged Maria close too.

She whispered something too quiet to make out. Maria said, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Her voice was like iron, and she squeezed Ellie’s shoulder as she pushed her away. Maria studied Ellie’s face and the side of her head with her brow gathered in worry. “Get to the infirmary and get cleared. We’ll have a meeting once everyone’s checked over.”

There were enough people shocked by Ellie’s presence for the crowd to part ways so they could walk into the dam. Ellie kept her head low and clutched Dina’s hand like a lifeline.

* * *

The infirmary wasn’t as crowded as Dina feared, though the cynical part of her whispered that dead people didn’t need treatment. The other parts of her rebutted that the dam felt full of people, though she had to admit she was used to the skeleton crew here at most.

Ellie reached out to take Dina’s hand, her gaze searching. There were bruises over both of her eyes, and now that Dina could focus enough to study her, she saw the incision and bright pink stitches in her scalp. Dina didn’t want to guess what those bruises or incision meant, but she had to ask, “Are you okay?”

Ellie glanced down and nodded jerkily. Then she reached out to touch Dina’s face. “Just got a little busted up,” was her quiet reply. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I’m okay. Just tired and hungry.” She glanced at JJ, stroking her hand through his hair. The bruise on his cheek had faded to green; she didn’t see any other injuries. “JJ, are you hurting anywhere?”

He touched his arm, and Dina pushed his sleeve up to display purple bruises. Ellie ghosted her hand over his skin before leaning close to kiss him and his arm. She removed the icepack from her face and set it on his arm. When Ellie looked over JJ’s head, something on her face told Dina she wouldn’t like what Ellie had to say.

“There was a Rattler, Tank. He said he hurt you.”

“Tank? No. Never even talked to him.”

Ellie’s eyes glazed with tears, and she nodded slowly. “Did anyone else?”

Dina considered Ellie’s emphasis. She shook her head slowly and repeated, “I’m just tired.”

“Okay.”

There was a strange distance stretching between them, larger than Dina expected. But Ellie had been gone for months, and they’d both had their own share of horrors in the meantime.

Then Dina saw that JJ had pushed back Ellie’s coat sleeve to display small string of black numbers on her skin. He touched them curiously.

“What’s that?” she asked, reaching out too. Ellie withdrew and tugged her sleeve down abruptly, and despite herself, Dina was hurt. Ellie seemed determined not to meet her gaze.

Ellie had been more open and happy with fucking Abby—who was asleep in the infirmary bed just feet away—than she was with Dina. Dina was allowed to be hurt by that. The entire exchange had been surreal, as was Ellie’s familiarity with Lev and Al, the Firefly doctor. How long had she been traveling with them?

She wasn’t allowed to be upset that Ellie climbed out of bed to fold Cat into a full-body hug or to wonder about the quiet murmurs they exchanged. Ellie asked her, “Your family?”

“They infected my mom,” Cat said, her voice barely controlled.

“Fuck, Cat.” Ellie’s face went tense with grief, even as Cat framed Ellie’s face between her hands. “None of this was your fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

They exchanged another hug before Ellie sank back into that infirmary bed. Dina took her hand. “She’s right.”

Ellie wouldn’t meet her gaze.

By the time Ellie was released from the infirmary, Maria had called a meeting and roll call.

“We don’t have to go.” Dina was more and more afraid by how little she could read her wife. This was a time for them to retreat, lick their wounds, and talk about what the fuck happened. But Ellie offered a grimace of a smile and said, “I don’t think that’s what mandatory means, babe.”

Dina had no choice but to follow. She studied the lean line of Ellie’s body and realized that Ellie was in the same clothes as the day of her disappearance, all the way down to her boots and the bracelet that peeked out from the edge of Joel’s torn coat.

JJ had Ellie’s belt loop twisted in his fingertips, and he kept looking back to make sure Dina followed them.

It was going to take time and the assurance of their family being whole again to heal from this, but with Ellie here, Dina was certain that was possible. No matter how difficult Ellie’s struggles with her mental health, she had always been a source of comfort and stability. With Ellie here, they could fix anything.

Maria greeted them at the door to the meeting room, a large office on the second floor of the dam’s west wing. Ellie’s voice was wooden as she said, “Maria, I’m sorry. Tommy died protecting me.”

For the first time in weeks, Maria smiled. She folded Ellie into another brief hug before pushing her away to meet her gaze. “My dumbass husband figured a few things out in the end, didn’t he? I’m sure if we’d asked him how he wanted to go out, he would have chosen protecting you. I’m glad you’re home, Ellie. We all are.”

“He asked me to save you. I should have told him you could save yourself.”

Maria nodded to Dina. “More like your wife saved me.”

Ellie glanced over her shoulder, meeting Dina’s gaze abruptly. That wide-eyed stare made Dina abruptly realize that Ellie had been avoiding eye contact. Dina shrugged, and finally, Ellie smiled a true smile. Maria leaned close to kiss Ellie’s forehead in a surprisingly tender gesture. “Go. Eat. You look like you haven’t eaten in a week.”

Someone had put together a large pot of stew, probably scraped together from the canned goods they stored for the occasional electrician group or patrol that came for a shift at the dam. There was a line of Jackson citizens accepting bowls of stew. The smell was enough to make JJ squirm, but he remained glued to Ellie’s side. The family in front of them—Lacey and her baby and young husband—turned to greet Ellie, all smiles.

“Dina!”

Dina was shocked to see Idris limp to her. She’d had no hope her old mentor would survive the Rattlers, not at his age, but he’d always been a tough bastard. He wrapped her up in and hug, and she squeezed him right back. Then Idris shook Ellie’s hand before wrapping her in a hug quick enough to earn Ellie’s flinch but not her retreat.

After JJ shook his hand, Idris settled on one knee with a grunt and, predictably, stole JJ’s nose and put it back on. The trick coaxed a small smile from JJ.

“Glad you made it,” Dina said, drawing him into another tight hug.

“Don’t suppose you’d take this old man as your apprentice? I might have forgotten a few things in my convalescence.”

“After my last apprentice? You’re a welcome change.”

Idris’s smile faded slightly. “Is he…?”

“Dead? Yeah.”

“Good riddance.” He squeezed her shoulder and returned to his seat. To Dina’s relief, Idris’s family—his son and grandson—were sitting with him.

Everyone in this room ate their fill for the first time in over a week. They clutched their bowls and looked around in disbelief that they were here. Maria sat at the head of the room, her gaze tracking around her people protectively. Patrick sat behind her with pen and paper at the ready.

Maria asked for everyone to voice their own names and then their known missing or dead. Apparently a few stragglers came in on the horses they’d released on their way out of Jackson, sparking cries and gasps when someone unexpected announced their presence. Hopefully more would make it on foot or were hiding within Jackson’s walls as the horde moved through.

The Rattlers had decimated Jackson’s elders, but none of the children had been seriously hurt. That was something.

With every new name confirmed infected or dead, Ellie seemed to shrink into herself further. Trust her to overlook moments of joy as a few families reunited in the moment, having missed that their loved ones made it to the dam.

“Dina,” Dina said when it was her turn. “JJ and Ellie are here. James and Robin are here.”

That drew more than a few surprised looks; a chorus of murmurs rose. If someone had missed Ellie’s return, they knew now. Then Maria spoke her name loudly and said, “My husband, Tommy is dead.”

Ellie wiped her eyes almost impatiently, setting her spoon back in her bowl. She looked at JJ in surprise when he crawled into her lap, but Ellie wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his head without complaint.

“Anyone else?” Maria called.

“What about the three in the infirmary?”

“They’re with me. They’re friends,” Ellie stated, and it was the firmest she’d sounded that day. Abby was a friend. How fucking surreal. Maria studied Ellie silently before nodding to Greg, who stood up beside her.

“I’m going to take a couple patrols out at first light to clean up the route back to Jackson. We’ll pick up our own on the way. Once we have Jackson scouted, we’ll build a team to clear it out.”

Maria looked around. “We’ll also need volunteers to gather food and supplies and to wash and mend clothing. We have about a week’s supply of food to last here if we’re conservative, but the plan is to be back in Jackson by that time.”

“We can’t live in that place, Maria. Not after what happened.”

Maria’s mouth pinched. “We can rebuild. I’m not going to pretend it’ll be easy, but we’ll find a way. Some of you are old enough to remember the hunters in 2029. We survived that and were all the stronger for it. Jackson is my home, and I’m not giving it up on account of some hipster gang from California. The first step is securing Jackson. Then we rebuild and restock.”

“We’re not taking Rattlers alive, are we?” Greg asked.

“No. But make it quick. We don’t have the time or energy to waste on a trial or so-called retribution. This is about safety. Any Rattlers or infected should be killed on sight. I trust there won’t be objections to that.”

“What about Tank?!” Alia called.

“Ellie just about cut his head off,” Greg replied evenly. “He didn’t enjoy it. I’d call that justice enough.”

A murmur swept the room, and more than a few eyes turned to Ellie. She ducked away from the attention.

“And Jim?” someone else called.

“Dead,” Dina confirmed. She lowered her voice. “Did you do that too?”

“Tommy,” Ellie replied, her voice going tight again. Dina rubbed her shoulder, coaxing a strangely shy smile. Now that she was watching for it, she noticed that Ellie flinched away from eye contact, shy in a way she’d never been.

Maria raised her voice. “We don’t have time for this. The order is to kill Rattlers on sight, no matter who they may have infected or beaten or killed. Now, are there any volunteers for our first patrols?”

Dina was poised to veto Ellie, but Ellie remained silent as a chorus of voices picked up. Greg picked his way over to them, resting against the table beside Ellie. He offered a smile. “Mind helping me parse out routes, cap?”

Ellie glanced at his knees. “Yeah. I can do that.”

* * *

At least hot water was in good supply at the dam. Dina felt like a new person after she had her time in the showers. There was little need for modesty among families, but Ellie—the dirtiest one of them all—slipped away after promising JJ she wouldn’t be far. Dina found her later sitting with Greg and her patrollers, discussing their routes south and the Rattlers confirmed dead in Jackson.

“Clean up and come to bed,” Dina said.

Ellie left the discussion without protest. Ellie’s discomfort was clue enough that she wouldn’t welcome Dina’s presence while she bathed. Dina knew this was not a time to push; she left Ellie to bathe in privacy.

As she lay with JJ tucked against her, Dina had to accept that despite her initial relief, she was still overwhelmed by worry. JJ was lisping and stuttering like a child two years younger, and Ellie was so fucking removed she felt like a stranger. Only James and Robin were constants, sleeping heavily by their steady breathing across the small room.

Despite her exhaustion, Dina couldn’t fathom sleep. Her mind churned and rolled, but nothing concrete held her thoughts. She’d felt this kind of wakefulness in Seattle, in New Mexico before that, and knew she had to wait it out.

Then Ellie—smelling clean and wearing fresh clothes—climbed into the blankets with them. Dina pulled her closer, and JJ snuggled sleepily between their bodies. Things inside settled a little more even.

When Dina woke, she found herself comfortable and full and warm. It was surreal. She jerked her head up to take in Ellie’s sleeping face beside hers, staring in disbelief. Dina’s hand moved over JJ’s tousled head which was tucked against her breasts.

This was real. She wasn’t in the Rattler’s pen. She wasn’t in Jackson. JJ wasn’t in danger. _Ellie was here._ Her family was together again.

She relaxed and closed her eyes, exhaling in shaky relief. She reached out, wrapping her free arm over Ellie’s back to pull her closer. Ellie brushed her nose against Dina’s as she woke, but when Dina leaned close to kiss her, Ellie ducked her head.

“Ellie?”

“I don’t want to infect you.”

“You said you can’t.”

“I got bit today. Just give me a day, okay?”

Dina wanted to ask what the fuck had happened in the months they were separated, but Ellie curled up to rest her face against Dina’s shoulder, tucking JJ close. Dina just didn’t have it in her to push right now. When JJ awoke between them, their rambunctious little boy stayed right where he was.

Ellie wasn’t right; Dina wasn’t either. The thing that terrified her most was that JJ wasn’t right either.

* * *

When Maria arrived the next morning with breakfast, she shut the door behind her. Ellie picked at her grits, shadows outlining her eyes below and bruises above, her gaze dark and far away. When she saw JJ watching her, she scooped up a mouthful and ate it with a smile. “Eat up, big guy.”

“My stomach hurts,” JJ whined.

“Mine does too. But it’ll feel better if you eat. I promise.”

JJ looked at his plate dubiously but took a tentative bite anyway. Then he kept eating until his plate was mostly clean. That alone made it a more successful breakfast than Dina expected. With their plates stacked, James coaxed JJ to go outside with him. JJ was reluctant, whining, and unhappy, but Ellie promised to take him for a walk along the lake when he came back. With JJ out of the room, Maria leaned back in her folding chair and said, “We need to talk about our little Firefly problem.”

“Problem?” Ellie echoed wearily.

“Yes. The one with the braid in our infirmary. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s Abby from Seattle.”

Robin stilled, but Dina kept her attention on her wife. Ellie sighed and quietly confirmed, “Yeah, that’s her.”

Maria’s brow furrowed, and she seemed to be waiting for more. “So what do we do with her?”

“Why do we have to do anything?”

“I’m sorry?” Maria replied incredulously.

“She saved my life, Maria. She brought me back to Jackson.” Ellie reached into her coat pocket and set a small metal object in Maria’s palm. Maria stared at her hand, tilting it back and forth. The light caught the irregular shape there. “She took two bullets for JJ. That came out of her vest.”

Distantly, Dina was aware that Robin made a noise of pain, but she was overwhelmed by fear. She reached out to touch the melted bullet cupped in Maria’s palm. That was a revolver bullet. Jim? Dina grabbed her chest as her entire body flushed with ice. She wanted to charge back outside to look at her son and confirm he wasn’t hurt. She hadn’t known she’d come that close to losing him.

Ellie wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Dina gathered herself. She rubbed Dina’s back. “Abby saved him, Dina. And she saved me.”

“How?”

“The Fireflies got me out of the QZ and brought me home. They volunteered to help me try to free Jackson. I wouldn’t be here without Abby.”

Dina looked into Ellie’s eyes and saw the truth of it. Lev hadn’t been lying. All along, Dina had thought Abby was the one who had taken Ellie. It was staggering to confront the reality that Abby had brought her back instead. And...

“She saved JJ?”

“Yeah. Jim was going to shoot him, and I…” Ellie’s voice caught. “I couldn’t get to my gun in time. She wrapped him up. It’s why she’s hurt.”

“Well, that settles it,” Robin said, her voice high and tight. “She and her friends are welcome in my home even if not in Jackson.”

“And if she asks to stay?” Maria asked.

“I don’t care anymore,” was Ellie’s dull reply. “Fuck, everyone wants _me_ back, and I brought the Rattlers here.”

“Ellie, you were just an excuse—”

Maria raised a hand, cutting off Dina’s rebuke. “Even if that’s true, I think you’ve suffered enough with FEDRA, and the Rattlers were the ones who sold you to them. You were their victim as much as Jackson. The only person here too shortsighted to see that is you.”

“The Rattlers sold me out?” Ellie asked in abrupt focus.

Dina said, “One of them was a trader that came through. He recognized you from FEDRA’s bounty and sold information to them about your location.”

Ellie pressed her face into her hands and nodded slowly. When she raised her gaze, her eyes were dry. “It’s not like everyone knows what FEDRA was doing to me. I just don’t see how—”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.” Maria gave her a sharp-eyed stare. “Jim outed your immunity, Ellie. You can be sure that ten minutes before he did, Jackson’s rumor mill had already spread the news far and wide.”

Maria’s joke seemed lost on Ellie, who pressed the flat of her hand to her chest and stared down at the floor. “Oh, fuck,” she wheezed.

“Hey.” Dina rubbed Ellie’s back and accepted the hard grip Ellie closed over one of her hands. As Ellie struggled to breathe, Dina rubbed her back hard and squeezed back. “Breathe. It’s okay, Ellie. Breathe.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ellie whispered again, as her breaths evened out. Her gaze darted around among everyone in the room. “They know? They all know? Robin, you…”

“Yes,” Robin said evenly. “I know, Ellie.”

“Well, shit.” Ellie sat up and rubbed her thighs vigorously. Then she gave a choked laugh and squeezed her tattoo. “It’s not like hiding helped me any.”

“What happened to you, Ellie?”

“The point is nothing did,” Ellie replied, misinterpreting Robin’s true question. “The scar was gross, but that was it.”

“When did you escape FEDRA?” Maria asked more pointedly.

“Three days ago.”

Ellie had been in FEDRA’s clutches for half a fucking year. It made Dina sick to think of the horrors that Ellie had survived. She looked at the line of stitches in Ellie’s scalp with new understanding and let helpless rage and grief rise.

“Oh, Ellie…” Dina sank into her arms, a sob shuddering her chest as Ellie wrapped her up tight and rocked her. “I’m so sorry…”

“I knew I had to get back to you and JJ. I was so afraid something had happened, and… Fuck, how long were the Rattlers in Jackson?”

“Eight days.”

Ellie exhaled shakily. “How many did we lose?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“How many did we lose?” Ellie asked more firmly.

“Twenty-six was the last count,” was the blunt answer.

Ellie’s chest expanded in Dina’s arms. Then she pressed a kiss to Dina’s head and sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Maria asked sharply.

“If I hadn’t gone to Santa Barbara—”

Maria cut her off. “If Tommy had let it go. If he hadn’t sent you there. Or if FEDRA hadn’t put out a bounty on you. Or if we weren’t so lackadaisical about what traders we allowed in. Or maybe if we hadn’t become so goddamn complacent. I can go on all day, Ellie.”

Ellie ducked her head. Maria raised her eyebrows, waiting for Ellie’s rebuttal, but none came. Her tone softened. “I can admit I’ve made mistakes with Jackson’s safety, but I’m not going to wallow in self-righteous recrimination because I couldn’t see the future.” She shook her head. “No. The point is to recognize the mistake so as not to make it again.”

Dina looked from Maria to Ellie and realized she discounted all those months that Ellie had lived under Maria’s roof. This woman knew Ellie well, and she’d just talked her down better than Dina ever could. Now Ellie nodded. “Point taken.”

“Good,” was Maria’s firm reply. She got up, brushed off her pants, and paused with her hand on the doorknob. “You’re sure about Abby?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Okay then.” Then Maria was gone with the same energy she’d come.

* * *

The patrollers arrived back that evening with reports that they’d cleared a few stragglers from Jackson and killed five Rattlers—in various stages of infection or wounded. The best news all day was the three Jacksoners they’d brought back.

“Can I have volunteers to come back out tomorrow and start cleaning up?”

Ellie remained silent. Dina glanced at James and Robin and JJ and decided if one of them had to clean up the mess the Rattlers undoubtedly left in their home, it might as well be her. She raised her hand.

Ellie offered no protest. Long after the rest of the family went to bed, Dina sat with Greg and his fellow patrollers and Lev, who would be out with them the next day. They cleaned and checked their weapons and discussed who would venture where within Jackson. The last thing they wanted was to shoot each other accidentally.

By the time Dina returned to the tiny room she shared with her family, she was exhausted. The sight of Ellie leaned up against the hallway raised her alarm. Ellie tilted her head, and Dina followed that look down the hallway and up the stairs.

“JJ?” she asked.

“He’s asleep.” Ellie motioned Dina into a small room that had probably been a supply closet before Outbreak. When Ellie shut the door behind them, Dina opened her mouth to say she was too damn tired to talk this out tonight. As much as she needed to hear it, Dina didn’t know if she could handle the whole story of Santa Barbara, of FEDRA, of the dark thing lurking behind Ellie’s eyes.

Then Ellie kissed her harder than Dina could ever recall being kissed. The kiss was bruising, but something about the hard bite of Ellie’s mouth ignited Dina’s need, and fuck, she needed Ellie with whatever ferocity Ellie needed her.

“Dina,” Ellie gasped.

“Fuck, yes, Ellie.”

Her clothes were only half off before they hit the floor with Ellie’s hand between her legs. She moved with purpose as she devoured Dina’s mouth. Ellie used her free hand to yank Dina’s neckline down to expose one breast. When Ellie’s teeth closed over her breast, Dina rocked into her touch without conscious thought. They pulled apart so Ellie could yank her clothes the rest of the way off. Ellie pushed Dina’s legs apart and kissed her just as hard there.

Dina came with Ellie’s wet fingers in her mouth.

“Fuck,” she gasped, gradually relaxing. Her legs dropped into the messy pile of blankets that had been spread on the floor. So there had been some planning to this. Dina stroked her hand through Ellie’s hair and looked down at the woman that lay against her stomach. She brushed Ellie’s hair away to expose the stubble and line of sutures that marked one side of her scalp.

“Can you cut them out?” Ellie asked with her eyes closed.

“I need scissors.”

Ellie reached into her back pocket, resting her heavy switchblade in Dina’s palm. Dina studied the knife, frowning at the etches in the wood. Probably a kill count. “How did…?”

“Tank had it. At least he kept it sharp,” was Ellie’s dull response. “Jim fucked up my revolver though.”

What were the odds?

They sat beside each other in that pile of blankets as Dina used the sharp tip of Ellie’s knife to cut at her sutures. She wasn’t sure how to feel or how to judge Ellie. Had Ellie withdrawn? Had she even been participating in the last few minutes? That ferocity was so uncharacteristic of their relationship, sexual or not. And here Ellie sat in all her clothes. What they’d done had felt good, but the sex hadn’t been intimate.

The last stitch was stubborn. As Dina freed it, she coaxed a reflexive sneeze from Ellie.

“Done.”

Ellie remained in the same position, her gaze on the ring on Dina’s necklace, which hung outside her undone shirt. Dina folded Ellie’s knife and handed it back before unhooking the chain and pressing the ring back into Ellie’s palm.

Ellie tilted it to study the engraving on the inside. She slipped it back onto her right index finger. “The Enforcer that grabbed me was going to steal it. I tried for weeks to remember what the writing looks like, but I couldn’t get it right.”

“Hey.” Dina tipped Ellie’s head up, stroking her cheeks with both hands. Ellie’s eyes were dry, but her gaze was dull. This wasn’t calm; this was numb. Dina kissed her softly, breathing in Ellie’s scent, then tasting her gently. When Ellie kissed her back, Dina withdrew to ask, “Do you want me to touch you?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“That’s okay.”

“I don’t know what they did to me. I don’t…” She hunched over to press a hand to her belly as if she felt sick.

Dina’s own fear rose high to choke her. “I need you to tell me what happened, Ellie.”

“Not tonight. Please.”

“Then when?”

“Tomorrow. I feel like I can actually sleep now.”

In the face of Ellie’s bare pleading, what could Dina do but acquiesce?

* * *

The next morning, it came as no surprise to Dina when Ellie remained silent and withdrawn. She’d fallen asleep quickly but woke them both with a nightmare. Ellie hadn’t known where she was, and she lay in Dina’s arms and cried as soon as she realized she wasn’t with FEDRA. Sleep had been restless for both of them after that.

“We need to talk.”

At least Ellie didn’t physically retreat. The fact Ellie turned her face away from Dina’s kiss was far more painful now that Ellie’s arbitrary quarantine was done.

“No more secrets, Ellie.”

Ellie lowered her head and nodded. Dina gave her more than a few seconds to speak, but Ellie remained silent. Sometimes her wife was too predictable. Dina couldn’t hide her exasperation when she said, “Don’t just nod. Talk.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

At least Ellie felt enough to be defensive. “Start with you getting bit. Or being abducted by FEDRA this winter. Or getting to Santa Barbara.”

“It’s not that easy, Dina.”

“Just say, ‘Dina, they grabbed me, threw me in a truck, and drove to...’”

Ellie lurched to her feet in physical separation. She paced in that tiny room, raising her hands and voice so abruptly Dina flinched.

“You want to know what they did to me?! They strapped me down, cut pieces out of me, poked me full of holes! They cut into my fucking head!” Ellie slammed her fist into the door and gasped out a laugh. “They owned every fucking part of me. I couldn’t even choose to stop eating.”

She released a long breath, and her voice softened. “I heard them infect someone almost every day. I’d walk by this hallway where they were cutting people apart alive, and every day I’d wonder when would be my turn. And every single one of those people felt like my fault.”

“How?”

“Would that still be happening if the Fireflies had been allowed to make their cure? Dina, Joel killed them all, for me, for my life. How many people have died because of that? Fuck, how many people in Jackson died in the last week because of it?”

Dina’s gut dropped as she realized something that should have been clear from the start. “You would have chosen to die.”

“Of course.” Ellie looked at her in disbelief. “My life for humanity? That’s not a hard choice. What’s the goddamn point otherwise?”

The point? The goddamn point?!

Dina stared at her wife and couldn’t comprehend how she could be so selfish. After all they’d survived to reunite, she’d come back home to say _that_ to Dina?! “Then why not just stay there? Why not submit to all their tests and die for some fucking stranger!”

Her last two choked words seemed to deflate Ellie entirely. Ellie wouldn’t meet her gaze, but she nodded slowly.

“Dina, I didn’t—”

Someone knocked tentatively on the door. “Dina? Ellie? I’m sorry, but we’re headed out. You still coming?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Greg.”

“We’re not finished.” Dina’s voice was tight and hard; she was choked by her mélange of emotion.

“Hey.” Ellie caught her by the waist, gently turning Dina around. She rested their foreheads together, and in the moment, they just breathed each other’s air, a million miles away from each other in their heads.

“Be safe. I love you.”

Dina nodded jerkily. She accepted Ellie’s soft kiss and turned it all off. To make it through this patrol, she was going to need to focus on something other than her worries about her family.

* * *

Even after Ellie’s return from California, it had taken trial and error to learn how to navigate within their little family. As Robin and James said more than a few times, communication was the most important tool they had. When it came to decisions about their family, Dina did her best to talk things through with Ellie because Ellie was just as much a parent to JJ as Dina was. All she asked was that Ellie was honest with her in return.

The problem was that they both sucked at communication in their own ways. Ellie bottled things up until they were too dark to suppress, but Dina liked to keep things light and open. Dina’s defensive mechanism was humor, but Ellie’s was escape. It was an altogether bad combination. It took Dina years to see her own faults past Ellie’s.

It was a wonder they were so compatible.

Within a month of Ellie finally moving back in with Dina and JJ, she accepted a steady patrol position without discussing it with Dina first. That sparked one of their worst verbal fights to date, one that sent Ellie back to Maria’s house for the night.

When Dina returned from her cool-down walk to find that Ellie had left the house, her anger flared up bright once more. She held her breath before she knocked on Maria’s door, keeping her rap polite because it wasn’t Maria’s fault that Ellie was a… God, she could be so fucking frustrating. When Ellie answered the door, Dina took her hand firmly and marched her back home without a word.

“Dina,” Ellie said quietly, unwilling to step past the threshold of their bedroom.

Dina turned back to her and pointed at the bed. “Sit.” When Ellie was on the bed as commanded, she said, “You don’t get to decide to walk out on me or him.”

“I wasn’t walking out—”

“Yes, you were.”

“It was just a night.” At Dina’s sharp look, Ellie lowered her head, her mouth pressed into a tight line. “I thought—”

“Do you have any idea what it was like to be stuck in that fucking theater and watch you walk away again and again? Not knowing if you were going to come back? Or if you did finding out what other piece of you would be lost? Then at our farmhouse, it felt like every other thing I said to you sent you running for the woods. You don’t get to do that anymore!”

Ellie looked up at her in surprise, and Dina sank back against the closed door. “I am so fucking sick of watching you walk away.”

“I’m sorry,” Ellie murmured, as always missing the point. “I didn’t know it was going to be a problem. I’ll ask Tommy to take my name off—”

“It’s not that, Ellie. I need you to talk to me about these decisions. And that means talking to me when I get mad too. What if I’d signed up too?”

“Do you want to?”

“Ellie!”

Ellie sighed heavily. “What are we fighting about, Dina?”

“Talk to me, Ellie! Why are you doing this?”

When Ellie shrugged, Dina was tempted to throw her washbasin at Ellie. Maybe the concussion would raise her emotional intelligence. Then all her anger drained out at once. She sighed and sank down onto the bed. “You’re infuriating.”

“Probably not a good time to reflect that statement, huh?”

“Is this because you feel guilted into doing it or you need this to be okay with yourself?”

Ellie traced the scars on her stumps as she considered Dina’s question. “Mostly the latter, but maybe that’s because I’m guilting myself.” Ellie glanced at her. “I miss being outside Jackson’s walls, and I know the infected are getting worse. This is something valuable I can do for Jackson.”

“You’re out almost every week with Greg.” Greg had spoiled that little secret a few months ago when Dina teasingly accused him of trying to steal her girlfriend away. Despite Ellie’s laugh, Greg had stuttered out the true reason for those little trips. Growing weed to trade for the goods Jackson needed seemed like a worthy job. So why did Ellie think she needed to do this?

“It’s not the same.”

She tried again. “You don’t have to patrol to be valuable to Jackson.”

“I muck stalls, Dina. Lacey is my partner in that, and she’s fifteen. And the weed thing is hardly anything. Almost anybody else could do it. But this is something I can do that a lot of other people can’t.”

“Are you going to be okay on patrol?”

“Yes. And if I’m not, I won’t go.” The answer was too firm to be anything but the truth.

Dina studied her girlfriend. She was struct abruptly by how much she loved Ellie despite how little she felt she understood her sometimes. Infection was just a part of the world, but maybe because Ellie was immune, she could imagine what life could be like without worrying about it.

“Infected aren’t getting worse, El.”

“The numbers are up from last year.”

“And they’ll probably be down next year.” Dina raised a hand. “I’m not arguing for you not to patrol, but you can’t control how and when the infected move around the country. All we can do is clear out what we can when they do come.”

Ellie was silent for a moment, stroking her tattoo absently. “You didn’t answer about wanting to start patrolling again.”

Dina took Ellie’s hand in her own. She touched the stumps of Ellie’s last two fingers. “If you’re going to be doing this, then I don’t think I should. Just in case we both…”

Ellie nodded. “I didn’t have anyone to look after me as a kid. We can’t do that to him.”

“I agree. I’m not going to pretend that I like you going out on patrol, but if you need that, I’ll have to deal with it. Just promise me you’ll be safe.” Dina waited for Ellie to meet her gaze. “Don’t forget about him and me in all of this. We need you too. And El? Talk to me.”

Something about her words put the glaze of tears in Ellie’s eyes. She nodded as she fiddled with her fingertips, then knit her fingers into Dina’s. She raised Dina’s hand to kiss it. Dina studied her for a long moment, prompting Ellie to ask, “What?”

“Nothing, just… Have we ever had makeup sex?”

“Oh god. I can’t take you anywhere,” Ellie muttered. Then she sobered. “I love you, Dina.”

“Not feeling makeup sex?”

Ellie winced. Dina offered a gentle smile, leaning close to brush her nose against Ellie’s. “Yeah, you’re right. How about some…hardcore cuddling?”

Ellie snorted. Her smile bloomed, and she accepted Dina’s kiss. “I can get down with some hardcore cuddling.”

* * *

It didn’t surprise Dina that Greg pulled the truck off the road by one of Eugene’s old ‘sex dens’, as Ellie liked to call them. Dina followed him inside. As Greg disappeared into the greenhouse, Dina walked upstairs, surveying the dusty corner bedroom with a quiet smile.

What a treasured memory in such an unassuming place. Ellie had planned their overnight trip to this house as a surprise, all but bribing Khanh to excuse Dina from her duties at the dam for a day. For Dina, it had been good enough that Ellie appointed herself on dam protection duty, but the quiet trip—and Ellie’s lame-ass proposal here—added to Dina’s joy.

Ellie had always been good at that kind of thing. They’d shared many small moments of joy even at the farmhouse, not from Ellie’s surprises so much as the fact Ellie took the effort to plan them.

When she realized there would be more opportunities for happiness, relief and happiness buoyed her for the first time in months.

By the time they got to Jackson, it was nearly midmorning. Dina expected oppression and fear to surround her, but without the Rattlers or infected, the town just felt empty. The group from the day before had already killed lagging infected and pulled down Chad’s body, but they suspected more.

They worked their way up Main Street, checking for signs of infected or dead. There were three infected barricaded in the grocers, but two wore Rattler gear, which was a blessing. Despite their acrid smell, Greg peeled their armor off and set it aside. They were surprised by four runners near the greenhouses, but no one was exposed.

They dumped all the bodies into a bonfire by the stables.

Some horses were wandering in and around Jackson. Dina was happy to call over Japan, who settled with his head over her shoulder and allowed her to ride him bareback to the stables. She saddled him up and used him to coax another few horses back into Jackson’s gates. Dina couldn’t help but smile when little Rainbow was among Jackson’s herd that had come back after escaping the horde. JJ would be happy to see his pony.

She and Lev turned the horses out into a paddock that had enough grass to support them until they could harvest more hay. They filled a trough with water. That was the extent of what they could do for the horses, but it would do for a few days.

She discovered Ellie’s bow in the barn. Someone had snapped the string, but hopefully it could be fixed. She strapped it to her backpack for safe keeping.

“Dina. Want to check out your house?”

Dina had seen Greg hold back tears as they surveyed the mess the Rattlers had left in his father’s restaurant. She’d prompted his smile by admitting she’d been the source of the stinking bodies on the floor. Then Greg had put on a brave face to joke, “Did you have to do it in the kitchen though?”

He was probably the only reason she didn’t break down when she stepped into that house behind the graveyard.

The downstairs was chaos. There was the mud tracked in every room. All the shelves, drawers, and closets had been opened, and the glass in the china cabinet had been shattered. All of Robin’s china was in pieces.

Dina and Greg spent most of their time carefully extracting pictures from shattered picture frames. Dina’s only picture of Talia survived. She spent a few moments stroking her fingertip over that beloved photograph of herself, Jesse, and Ellie on patrol.

“Dina…”

Dina had to fight tears when she saw JJ’s newborn footprint and handprint impressions had been broken in half. She cradled the two halves together and walked into the kitchen to set them on the table. Then she remembered that melted bullet and wept.

Greg sank down on one knee and surveyed the damage. “You know who can fix that? Wes.”

“He made it?” All the names had blurred together during their first meeting at the dam, and every new person she realized survived was another relief.

“Yep.”

She wiped her eyes and offered Greg a faint smile. “Thanks.”

He didn’t smile. “You should come upstairs.”

If she thought the Rattlers had destroyed their house, downstairs was nothing on Ellie’s art room. The entire room had been ripped apart. Ellie’s paintings had been torn from the walls, cut apart, and her guitar…

Dina crouched down to pull apart the mangled mess of guitar strings and wood. She brushed her fingertips over the moth imprinted into the fractured neck.

“Fucking animals,” Greg whispered. “She’s not okay, is she?”

“No,” Dina replied quietly. She extracted the headstock and first fret from the rest of the mess of strings and shattered wood. The rest of it wasn’t salvageable, but Ellie might want to keep the moth engraving.

“Dina?”

She glanced up. Greg held several strips of torn yellow paper in his hands. “I think this is important.”

Dina took the pieces from him and set them on Ellie’s art table. It took little time to reassemble it, and by the time Dina realized what it was, she’d already read it. She hesitated, opening an intact book to set the pieces of Anna’s letter inside for safe keeping.

How could she know someone as intimately as she knew her wife and not know about that letter?

At least the bedrooms were relatively untouched, though the sheets had been disturbed. Then she realized someone had pulled all the clothes out and pissed on them. Dina stripped the bedding and tossed it into a pile with the clothes to be washed. A few books had been pulled out of their small bookshelf, but they’d only been tossed carelessly on the floor.

Dina paused to finger the torn wood of their bedroom doorpost. Someone had gone through the house and stripped all the mezuzahs off. She couldn’t imagine having the time to tear apart another person’s home to this fine detail.

Talia wouldn’t have had much to say about this other than putting down roots meant you couldn’t run when you needed to, but their mother would have said if they had a strong foundation, rebuilding would be easy. Dina wasn’t sure either of them were entirely right.

* * *

When Dina arrived back at the dam, Ellie and JJ were fishing in the chilly evening. Dina was exhausted, ready to collapse in bed, but she hiked up to the protected area of lake shore to find them. As she approached, she heard JJ laugh for the first time since the Rattlers, and something dark inside eased its grip from around her heart. Ellie smiled at JJ, and her smile didn’t fade when she caught sight of Dina.

“All okay?” Ellie asked.

“Okay enough. Guess what, JJ? Rainbow’s in Jackson, and she told me she’s ready to start riding again.”

He smiled at that, and Dina leaned close to offer him a kiss. He came the rest of the way, pressing his lips against hers lightly. Then he abandoned his fishing pole to sink into her arms for a long hug. Dina needed it just as much as he did.

“Well,” Ellie said to JJ. “What do you say we go in and eat a few of these fishies?”

“Yep!” was JJ’s adamant reply.

He stayed close, but not as close as he’d remained since Ellie’s return. When he saw a few of his friends in the makeshift cafeteria, he ran to them and bounced as they exchanged words. It was a moment of respite, but Dina knew they would be battling the Rattlers’ effects for much longer than a couple days.

“How bad was it?” Ellie asked quietly.

“Not pretty,” Dina admitted. “They fucked up your art room. Ellie, I’m sorry. They broke your guitar.”

Ellie was quiet.

“And they tore up your mother’s letter. I didn’t realize what it was until I put it back together.”

Dina expected discomfort, and she’d prepared herself for anger, but Ellie only sighed. “Maybe it’s better this way.”

“Better?” Dina asked, worry rising high. “How could it be better?”

“I’m just not surprised,” Ellie replied too evenly to be telling the truth. She met Dina’s gaze briefly before glancing at the floor. “Hey, did you see Bronco?”

“Who?”

“A gray dun gelding. He has a white snip.”

“I don’t know that one. Why?”

Ellie seemed a stranger when she said, “No particular reason.”

That night, cradled in Ellie’s arms, Dina touched the string of numbers tattooed on Ellie’s wrist. Ellie lifted her hand and used her index finger to trace the faint circular scar beside those numbers.

“They injected me with CBI here. They let me choose where, but I didn’t know they’d put the numbers there. I still don’t know what they mean.”

Dina raised Ellie’s wrist, pressing a kiss to the scar. “Guess it’s time for another tattoo.”

“Yeah,” Ellie murmured with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so focused on my own shit. This has been a pretty shitty couple of weeks for you and JJ.”

“Honestly, it’s been a shitty year. Ellie, I was so scared I’d never…” She swallowed her tears. “I had no idea where you’d gone or what they were doing to you or if you were alive. JJ was devastated. And then the fucking Rattlers…” She shook her head. “I’m so fucking glad you’re home. Even after what they did, it finally feels doable again.”

Ellie’s fingers moved gently through her hair. Dina tried not to be bothered by Ellie’s silence.

* * *

Within four days, Jackson’s citizens had reclaimed their town. They hastily repaired the broken north gate that had allowed in the horde, painted over the Rattler’s tags, and the electrician’s guild repaired the faulty electric fences that surrounded much of Jackson’s northern perimeter. They reinforced their armory, and there were meetings every night about new policies about traders, weapons, and guarding the watchtowers and gates.

There was collective relief to be busy for themselves again.

James spent a lot of his time at the tanner’s, cleaning and fixing materials for the whole of Jackson, and Dina split her time between her electrician duties and setting their household to right. The first day back was devoted to washing their bedding, clothes, curtains, and cushions. She, Ellie, and Robin cleaned and repaired what they could within their home.

That first night, resting in her bed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Dina anticipated Ellie rising from bed to pace downstairs. She listened to Ellie’s steps as she checked JJ’s room—now Ellie’s steps carried her outside of James and Robin’s door for a long moment too—and her loop downstairs. Dina listened to the silence of Ellie waiting in the kitchen.

For the first time, Dina got up to share the ritual. They both gazed into the darkness. Dina used to wonder what her wife was waiting for, but now Dina could guess it was for anxiety to release its hold on her neck. Before Dina was ready, Ellie led them both in another circuit around the house; Ellie fiddled with the locks on the doors and windows and tested the plywood that had been nailed over the broken windows. Then, finally, Ellie returned them both to their bed.

“I got JJ a puppy for his birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“Jim shot him.”

“Did JJ see?”

“Yeah.” Dina sighed heavily. “I don’t regret it. JJ loved that dog for the time he had.”

“Did you give him his guitar?”

“I didn’t have the heart. I lied to him, El. I told him you left to help save the world. I thought it would be better for him not to think you could get snatched away. I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad you told him that. Made me out to be a hero.”

“What happened?”

Ellie’s breath raised her chest, and she sighed heavily. “FEDRA rammed my horse, took me to this fucked up lab in San Francisco. I… It was… It was bad. It wasn’t so much what they did but what I didn’t know. When I fought back, they drugged me, and I’d wake up and have a new bandage or ache and I wouldn’t know why. I tried to starve myself, but they… They threatened to bring you and JJ to the lab, and I realized they did have all the power. So I cooperated.”

“Shit, Ellie.”

“The worst part was realizing I couldn’t protect you from them. I knew eventually that either they were going to kill me or they were going to kidnap you and JJ. After they… After the last thing they did to me, I knew I had to try to get out or die trying.”

“So we were burdens,” Dina muttered bitterly. She hated that they were the reason why Ellie was in that place for as long as she was. She hated what FEDRA had done to her wife.

“No. _I_ was your fucking burden,” Ellie snapped, surprising Dina with that vehement denial. “Fuck, babe, what happened to you? To JJ? Don’t tell me you’re just tired.”

“Worked to the bone. They had us shoveling and digging for no reason. Saw some people infected. They whipped Chad and hung him up. They infected Tommy after he slipped me a knife. Not the first time I’ve seen this shit.” Dina reached out to press her fingers against Ellie’s mouth. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

“Did they… Did they hurt him?”

“Jim slapped him. A few of them yelled. But if you’re asking about rape, no. I don’t think anyone was. And I don’t think the kids saw much of what the Rattlers did to us. Ellie, we have to be better with him. We have to talk to him about it.”

“I’m terrified of what he’ll say.”

Based on the catch in Ellie’s voice, her statement wasn’t an exaggeration. Dina kissed her neck and snuggled closer. “I keep waiting for him to say something, but he hasn’t.”

“When I was about his age, I saw a guy gunned down at the ration line. I’d seen them killed when they scanned positive, but this guy bolted before they could scan him. I still remember the way he kept running even missing half his face. He took, like, three steps.”

“How long did that bother you?”

“Until I saw something else that fucked me up.”

“Mom and Talia used to take me hunting when I was little. I’d help them quarter and gut and skin. I never realized people looked exactly the same as animals on the inside until...”

“What happened?”

“Some cannibals came through. We hid, but they trashed our place, stole all our shit. I saw their horse though, and the cheesecloth bag had a human arm in it instead of a deer quarter. I could see the fingers poking out. Then I realized.”

“Did your mom talk to you about it?”

“No. I never said anything. Had nightmares for years.”

“Okay. We should talk to him tomorrow.”

Though Dina was feeling heavy with sleep, Ellie wasn’t done. “Maria said you saved her?”

“I killed a couple with the knife Tommy snuck me. Freed myself. I was in their armory so I stole some weapons and took them to the pen to free the other women so we could get the kids out. Then Jim got on the radio and said he was going to shoot JJ.”

“Fucker.”

“I nearly killed Lev and Al, but he said he came with you, and… It was like I could breathe again. How did you get away from FEDRA, Ellie? Where did you meet Abby?”

“I only made it out of the lab. I was fucked. No weapon, covered in blood, in these stupid white clothes. A Firefly grabbed me off the street. Really big guy. I was just too weak to fight him off. Then Abby and her group turned on him. They got me out of the QZ, brought me here.”

“Apparently you fought a bloater?”

“We walked under San Francisco Bay. I don’t recommend it.”

Abby saved Ellie by betraying her own organization. If Dina was perplexed by Santa Barbara before, she was doubly so now. Obviously Abby had walked away in California, but Dina couldn’t imagine what had transpired to inspire that kind of loyalty. Abby had let Ellie go twice, yes, but to turn around and save her years after their conflict…

“What happened in Santa Barbara?”

“Abby and Lev were picked up by the Rattlers too, you know.”

Dina nodded. She was surprised when Ellie kissed her temple. “When I found her, I just couldn’t… If I’d just held on a little longer, I would have drowned her. But then I realized I didn’t want to anymore. So I let her go. I…”

A scream pierced the night, and without thought, they were both up and running across the hallway. JJ was screaming, thrashing under his sheets. Ellie tugged him out of bed, and they both gathered him close, hushing him as his screams tapered off into sobs. Then, after a few minutes of thrashing, screaming, and crying, he faded back into restful sleep in Ellie’s arms.

Night terror. He’d had a string of them when he was younger but none in over a year. This was not a coincidence. Nor was the bed-wetting the night before.

They exchanged looks. JJ was asleep, likely wouldn’t remember it in the morning, but… After Dina’s nod, Ellie gathered JJ against her, and they walked across the hall back to their bedroom. Dina raised her hand to James and Robin, who hovered in the hall. “Nightmare. It’s okay.”

Dina raised the wick on their oil lamp before they settled back in bed. JJ mumbled and stretched, but it took Dina a while to find that restful place for sleep.

A few hours later, Dina was jostled awake, disoriented and uncertain where she was. She looked at Ellie in incomprehension. Ellie was sitting on the side of the bed, her back bowed and shaking with each heavy inhalation.

“Ellie?” she mumbled, her voice rough with sleep.

“Nightmare,” Ellie replied weakly. She glanced over briefly as Dina shifted JJ off her belly to reach out for Ellie. Dina expected Ellie to escape downstairs, but after she splashed water on her face, Ellie climbed back into bed and wrapped her arms around both of them.

* * *

To Dina’s startled joy, she returned from the grocer the third afternoon back in Jackson to find Ellie on the porch swing with Baby in her lap. That fucking cat… She lay curled up in Ellie’s lap, purring loud enough for Dina to hear from the front door. She’d survived the Rattlers and the horde and somehow looked just as fat and lazy as always.

The next week was a scattered mix of picking up the wreckage, navigating JJ’s trauma and extreme attachment, and attending the town hall meetings to nail down their new policies to prevent this from happening again. Ellie—who had become a strong voice within the community—sat quiet and withdrawn as she listened.

That should have been another fucking clue on top of them all, but Dina was too distracted by a million things to pay attention.

Collectively, they’d decided on a joint funeral for everyone lost to the Rattlers. They were too damn busy to spend the next month eaten up in funerals, and as Maria bluntly said, “We can celebrate our lost by surviving.” All of Jackson gathered to mourn one cool spring morning. Ellie walked among the new graves, laying a small bundle of flowers at each one: Susan, Doc Jons, Chad, Bonnie…

Dina finally realized how personal this was to Ellie.

Tommy’s ashes had been buried beside Joel’s grave in Jackson’s graveyard, and a temporary headstone was placed to mark his grave. After visiting the other graves, Ellie stopped to place her last few flowers at Miller brothers’ headstones.

Dina stood beside Ellie after the quiet eulogies and felt something keen for Tommy. She remembered him so serious as he recited his blessings at her wedding, his quiet support those dark months that Ellie had been missing, and how much he and Ellie had cared for each other.

She glanced at Ellie, who gazed at Tommy’s grave in silence. She had no tears, not then.

When Dina found Ellie sitting on the bed the night after Tommy’s funeral, clutching Joel’s watch in one hand and crying into her other hand, she shut the door behind her and sat down by her wife.

“Hey.” When Dina coaxed Ellie to cry in her embrace, she was relieved when Ellie did just that. She stroked Ellie’s hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “It’s going to be okay. We’re together now. We can do this together.”

Eventually, Ellie’s tears dried. She just lay against Dina’s chest and breathed softly. Dina thought Ellie had fallen asleep, but Ellie murmured, “I need to talk to you.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What isn’t?” Ellie asked quietly, raising her gaze.

“We can heal from this. We have each other.”

Ellie sat up abruptly. She dropped her head and cupped the nape of her neck.

“Ellie, I need to know what you’re thinking.” Dina’s voice caught and thickened with tears as all the pieces fell into place. “Please.”

Ellie nodded slowly and raised her gaze. There was finality on her face that made Dina’s heart drop into her belly. She’d known. Somehow she’d known it would come to this.

“No. No, Ellie. You’re not going to sneak out the back door before dawn this time.”

Ellie winced through her tears. “I don’t want to spoil what time we have left, but I know we need to talk about this.”

Dina knew exactly what Ellie would say. “You’re going with them.”

“I think I have to.”

“Why?” Dina gasped in disbelief.

“What if this is just the start?”

“You don’t owe humanity anything.”

“This isn’t about humanity, Dina. This is about JJ. About…” She rocked forward against her own hand and winced. “It’s my duty to protect him.”

“Then protect him.”

“Protect him?” Ellie replied tightly. “I can’t, can I? That’s what’s killing me. I don’t see how I can.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“FEDRA. I couldn’t—” She choked and had to pause.

“What about the WLF and the Rattlers and the Ravens? Any one of them could blow through tomorrow and torch Jackson. The fact you weren’t in Jackson didn’t stop the Rattlers, and it won’t stop any of the others.”

“That’s not what I mean, Dina. I told you, FEDRA threatened to kidnap you and JJ and keep you hostage to make me cooperate. They know who you are and where you live. Shit, Dina.” She struck the flat of one palm against the other. “What if this is the only way to keep him safe?”

“Then stay and keep him safe!”

“I can’t protect him. Not from them, not from the infected. After we’re gone, what kind of world are we leaving for him to inherit?”

“Isn’t his happiness worth more than some long-shot chance at a vaccine?”

“Happiness won’t keep him alive.”

“A vaccine won’t replace his mother. Do you really think the Fireflies are going to reward your sacrifice by marching vaccine doses back to Jackson, Wyoming?!”

“Dina,” Ellie said with a long sigh.

What the fuck kind of argument was this? From FEDRA to infected, Ellie was painting a world colored by her paranoia and not reality. And no matter what Dina said, she already knew Ellie wasn’t going to change her mind.

Dina looked away, wiping at her tears angrily. She pressed her hand to her lips and shook her head. “I can’t believe it. After all we’ve gone through to find each other again, after vowing to love each other, to be a family, you’ve already made up your mind. You’re just going to fucking abandon us—”

“No. Dina, no.”

“Don’t even pretend this is about us at all.”

That finally sparked some anger. “It is, as much as you don’t want to see it.”

“Let someone else do it!”

“Who?” Ellie asked her sharply. “Have you met another immune person? Because I haven’t! I _don’t want this_ , but it’s my burden. I’m the only person who can and even if there’s just a small chance at a cure, don’t I owe it to the world to see it through?”

“What about what you owe your family? JJ needs you!”

“Please, Dina,” Ellie pleaded. “I don’t want to lose what time I have left with you.”

“And what time is that?”

Ellie deflated, dropping her head. “I don’t know. As soon as Abby’s healed.”

“Fuck you, Ellie. Fuck you.” Dina didn’t have it in herself to respond to the slow fall of Ellie’s tears or the catch in her chest. She snatched up her pillow and strode downstairs, sinking into the couch to cry as quietly as she could.

She awoke from her dull doze in the dark of night, startled to feel a warm body wrap around her. Ellie murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Dina knew Ellie well enough to know that apology wasn’t indication she’d changed her mind. It was because she wasn’t going to change it.

* * *

That first year after Ellie returned from Santa Barbara was almost idyllic. Seeing Ellie heal and having her there for Dina and JJ and James and Robin was near perfection. Dina had real hope that this was it for them, that they could finally be a happy family. The only catch was that Ellie was still firmly entrenched in Maria’s guest bedroom.

The first time Dina suggested Ellie should move back in with her—a teasing question about Ellie wanting to take her side of the bed back—she’d expected Ellie to eagerly accept. Instead Ellie had said she needed more time. That remained her stubborn answer every time the topic came up.

The circumstance of Ellie finally changing her tune was so random. Dina and JJ had taken a rare hot bath. JJ splashed happily on a ledge James constructed for him. In the midst of JJ’s chaos, Dina was in heaven. Not only was JJ happy, but she was comfortable as hell. Hopefully he wouldn’t poop anytime soon.

She splashed JJ’s floating ball back over, and he shoved it in his mouth. When he handed it to her, Dina pretended to take a bite, earning his grin.

“You are gonna be a heartbreaker one day, Spud.”

Someone knocked on the door. Dina raised a questioning eyebrow at her son, which made him laugh even harder. “Whoever could it be?” she whispered. More loudly, “Yes?”

“It’s me.”

JJ looked up in recognition, gasping his babyish, “Mommy!” Dina felt a shift of anticipation herself. She changed her position, rolled her eyes at herself, and called, “Come i—in.”

Ellie entered the bathroom, her gaze going wide at the sight of Dina’s provocative position. She shut the door quickly, flicking the lock. To Dina’s amusement, Ellie blushed. That was great for the ego. Even after three years, Dina still had it.

“Draw me like one of your French girls, Ellie,” Dina murmured in as sultry a tone as she could.

“I hate that movie. You’re sexy enough to sketch, though.” Ellie sank down onto the toilet cover, offering a slow smile.

“What brings you by? Have you had dinner?”

“Yeah. Maria force-fed me before she let me leave. Just wanted to see JJ before he went to bed.”

“Seems like you lucked out.”

“I’ll say,” Ellie muttered. She smiled as she leaned over to kiss JJ on the head. As she did, she looked Dina over again.

“Join us.”

“I just came from the barn.”

The dirtiest parts of Ellie had probably already been cleaned before she ate dinner. She’d complained more than once about Maria’s requirements for someone to sit at her dinner table.

“It’s a bath, isn’t it?”

“But your bathwater…” Then Ellie swallowed and said, “Fuck it. Okay.”

“Fuckit!” JJ shouted.

Ellie and Dina exchanged startled looks before they both laughed, which provoked another set of screaming curses. They shushed him, but that only caused more laughter all around.

Ellie stripped her clothes quickly and clambered into the bath with them. Ellie accepted Dina’s kiss, though from the way her mouth moved on Dina’s, she wasn’t interested in sex. Dina tested the waters, suggesting, “I could have Robin get JJ.”

“Are you crazy? Why would I miss bath time with my favorite tater?”

Dina helped Ellie bathe, coaxing a few laughs from JJ when she lathered up Ellie’s hair. Ellie positioned her hair around her mouth like a beard, which was apparently the funniest thing JJ had seen in his entire life.

Dina let her gaze linger as Ellie rinsed. She was still whip-thin despite Jackson filling out her cracks, as Maria put it. Her back was strong, and her arms were wider than they’d been, muscles filling out despite Ellie’s boundless metabolism.

She looked good, not that Dina had ever considered her anything but sexy.

At Dina’s coaxing, Ellie leaned back in her arms. Dina pressed Ellie’s head against her shoulder, her finger brushing over Ellie’s earlobe absently. Dina stroked Ellie’s calf with her foot, and Ellie’s hand cupped Dina’s leg. Ellie reached out to push a lock of JJ’s hair back, and he gave her wide grin.

“Look at all those chompers!” Ellie exclaimed. “You’re gonna tear through that cake on your birthday, dude.”

Dina wanted this every day. She wanted Ellie in her bed again. She was so fucking tired of having to visit the person she was going to spend the rest of her life with. The ache of it hit her abruptly, and she couldn’t temper her question.

“How long are we going to do this taking it slow thing?”

Ellie stiffened in her arms, but she didn’t retreat. Dina leaned over to kiss the side of her neck, trying to judge the expression on Ellie’s face. “We’re a family, aren’t we?”

“Do we have to live together to be that?”

“I want to. We can move out if that’s—”

“It’s not that. I like Robin and James. I just… I’m still having flashbacks, babe.”

That couldn’t be the real reason. “We’ve dealt with that before.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How would you hurt me? When did you ever hurt me?”

Ellie remained silent. She sat up, propping her arm on her knee. It wasn’t a complete retreat, but though Ellie was physically close, emotionally, she felt so distant. Her gaze fixed on the far wall. Dina sat up to wrap an arm around Ellie’s waist; she pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“If that’s the problem, then let’s do that thing Doc Jons said to do. Let’s work through your fears logically. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Deserve what?” Dina gasped.

“The life you want.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? It’s not about that! I love you. JJ loves you. I want to live with you because you make me happy. I want you to share my bed and eat at my table and—”

“You’re right,” Ellie murmured. “You’re right.” She raised Dina’s hand to kiss the inside of her wrist. Her breath tickled Dina’s skin as she exhaled. Within Dina’s arms, Ellie’s entire body seemed to soften and relax. She sat back, and Dina gathered her close readily.

Ellie pressed another soft kiss to Dina’s palm. With her other hand, she reached out to gently hold JJ’s toes, prompting his happy laugh.

Dina still wasn’t sure what she’d said to make Ellie give in. Dina had been busy, happy, and so ready to resume their partnership that she’d taken it for granted. Sometimes when she thought of that strange about-face, Dina wondered what had convinced the most stubborn woman she’d ever known to change her mind. Maybe she should have focused on why Ellie was so damn reluctant in the first place.

* * *

The next morning was a bitter, quiet time. Dina stewed in Ellie’s betrayal, which distracted her from the crushing grief that threatened to overwhelm her. Robin and James read the mood and mainly engaged with JJ over breakfast. Ellie ate her food mechanically, offering only a couple looks to Dina, then she kissed JJ and left with the promise she’d be back after her watch tower duty.

Ellie was at her post by the time Dina walked out of Jackson to string up another line of electric fence with Idris. They worked quietly together for most of the morning before they completed their task. As Dina walked back into Jackson, Ellie lifted her hand in a lonesome wave.

She’d told herself she wouldn’t do this again. That she would take Ellie back no matter the costs because even a moment with her wife again was better than none. As Ellie had said, why spoil what time they had left?

The world was a shitty place full of shitty people, but Dina controlled how she thought about it. Though her bad memories of Talia outweighed the good ones by the end, she could control which ones she brought out to reexamine or discuss. And unlike Ellie, Dina preferred to focus on the good.

Wasn’t this the same situation? Dina could be angry, she could focus on the unfairness, the inexplicable decision for Ellie to hold higher the greater shitty world instead of the family that loved her, how the world had given Dina this gift by saving Ellie and was determined to take her back again. She could shut Ellie out for making this decision for all of them.

Or she could support Ellie, learn everything she could to help arm Ellie for her journey, and revel in what could be their last days together. She could make a few more happy memories to look back on. She could make sure Ellie would want to come back.

This marriage was a two-way street. As Ellie had said once, _For better or worse._ It was up to Dina to make worse a little bit better in whatever way she could.

She looked up at her wife and raised her hand to wave back.


	12. Hero of her own story

There was a small, selfish part of Ellie that wanted to be angry that Dina couldn’t understand why she had to do this and the fact it hurt so fucking much to make this decision. She felt it, anticipated what kind of personal consequences leaving would have on her family. But, fuck, there had been a horde in Jackson in the spring when a full patrol had been run only two weeks prior.

Dina would put it down to all the circumstances: that the recent patrol hadn’t been run, that the gunshots within Jackson had drawn the horde, that Al had driven through the north gate and allowed the horde to enter Jackson unimpeded.

But the truth was that this wouldn’t have happened even last year, not a horde this close to Jackson this close to summer. The hordes, the infected, they were getting worse, and at a rate that meant there would be nothing left for JJ when Ellie and Dina were dead and buried.

This was the right thing even if it wasn’t the easiest one.

When she’d been in that lab, the only thing she could think about was the threat of FEDRA looming over her family. Now that she was home and confirmed they were safe—after the goddamn brutality of the Rattlers, brought here by Ellie—that threat hadn’t dissipated. She knew how it must look to Dina.

It was just choosing the better of two shitty paths. This was the one the world had chosen for her. Despite the certainty that she was in the right, Ellie couldn’t even scrounge up enough selfishness to retain any kind of anger at Dina. All she had to do was remember Dina’s tearful, “No” in that farmhouse to push the emotion away.

As she sat atop the guard tower and surveyed the forest that shrouded the north, Ellie wondered if she should have pledged to tie her life to Dina and JJ despite knowing the world would come calling and tear her away from her family. It had only been a matter of time.

She’d been telling herself for years that she did deserve her life in Jackson, that her shit wasn’t bad enough to overshadow the good she could bring her family, but after the last six months, Ellie wasn’t so sure about the latter claim anymore. Or maybe the better comparison was that the good she could bring her family personally was not greater than the impact she could have on the world if she could spread her immunity. But damn, had there been good times, and Ellie would treasure those memories to her grave.

At least Dina returned her wave before she walked back through Jackson’s gates.

When Cam relieved her at midday, Ellie climbed down from the tower and turned her feet towards home. Then she looked up at Jackson’s clinic and stilled as gnawing anxiety pushed her into its doors.

The clinic was fairly bare, cleaned up from the drugs the Rattlers had stolen or gotten high on. Ellie should be here, helping Zora figure out how to navigate Doc Jons’ death, but she’d been afraid that lab would ruin her ability to handle the sterility of this little clinic.

And she wouldn’t be here long, would she?

She took a few deep breaths inside the doors, turning her gaze back and forth. Then, slowly, her shoulders relaxed. She was fearful, but her fear had nothing to do with her memories of the CBI lab.

As Ellie expected, Al was working on organizing the space with Zora. Zora’s smile faded after her greeting. Ellie wasn’t here for her, and she seemed to sense that.

“Can I talk to you? Alone?”

Al glanced up at Ellie with uncertainty written all over her face, but she nodded. Ellie led Al to Doc Jons’ office and felt her grief rise for a moment. Another dead to infection. She’d shared more than a few conversations with Doc Jons in here. This place was safe, no matter what Al had to say to her. When the door shut behind them, Al offered a tense smile. “Zora tells me you’re her partner in training. I didn’t realize you had some medical background.”

“Can you make a vaccine with the data?”

Al took the conversation shift in stride. “No.”

“Can you make one with me?”

She hesitated, releasing a sigh as her gaze turned to something far away. Then she pushed her glasses back up her nose and met Ellie’s gaze steadily. “I think we owe it to ourselves and the world to keep trying up until the time we determine it’s impossible.”

“So you want to?”

Al rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I…ran into the trap of thinking that just one more experiment, one more death would justify everything I did to get there. But for the first time, this feels possible. Hell, it feels right. If you’re willing, I want to see this through.”

“Are you better than Tara?”

“A better researcher? Decidedly.”

“Will you have to kill me to make a vaccine?”

“I don’t know. But that would be a decision for you and you alone to make.” Al hesitated. “Does that mean you want to go to the Fireflies?”

Ellie nodded slowly, working her mouth. She meant to ask when they’d leave or how long it would take to get there, anything but the inexplicable question that tumbled out of her mouth.

“Am I pregnant?”

Al looked away immediately. Ellie waited her out, her breath caught, feeling drawn in so many directions equally that she couldn’t move. Then Al removed her glasses. As she cleaned them, she nodded.

Ellie sank into the seat behind her and pressed her face into her hands. She waited for the crush of anxiety to tighten around her neck, the weight of impending doom to drop onto her shoulders, nausea to rise high in her gut, but all she felt was numb. She’d hoped the confirmation of her suspicion would push her away from the decision she’d already made, but it was just…there. Not a guiding force, not a whisper of conscience, not even a biological imperative.

“Will I keep it?”

“I don’t know.”

It wasn’t until she felt her relief that Ellie realized that she’d dreaded but expected a definite ‘no’. Jesus, she’d breathed spores for hours. She’d let herself get bit protecting Abby. She’d been careless with her own life, careless with the one she hadn’t realized she was carrying. It wasn’t the first time, and she suspected it wouldn’t be the last.

“I lost another, didn’t I? In the lab.”

“Very early. They blamed starvation.”

Funny. All Tara or Jae had needed to do to get her to eat again would be to tell her that truth from the start. Ellie rubbed her eyes, wiping away the tears that had risen.

“Who’s the father?”

“It wasn’t… They used artificial insemination, a sperm donor.”

Ellie raised her gaze. “That isn’t what I asked.”

From the look on her face, Al knew. Information from Tara’s laptop, surely. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Ellie took the time to ponder the answer to that question. She’d never been particularly good at letting things go. The drive to know the truth had always plagued her. For her, there was never really the choice between worrying at her ignorance and ignoring the ugly truth after she acknowledged it.

No question. “Yes. I’m sure.”

* * *

Once upon a time, Ellie had survived unhappily in Boston QZ’s military prep schools. Her first expulsion had been because she’d been caught stealing. That was her fault, and even if she didn’t own that at the time, she could admit it now. Her second expulsion wasn’t; that was all on the asshole teacher that tried to sell her to a soldier. She’d stabbed the soldier in the groin with a pencil and escaped out a window, scaling the building to drop into a full classroom and inadvertently starting what FEDRA’s education system had labeled a ‘riot’.

She had been thirteen years old and already disillusioned with life in general, but despite herself, certain that her appointed guardian would take her side when she walked into his office.

Bradshaw hardly had time for her during their few years together. For the majority of their required meetings, he sat her outside his office with a cup of hot chocolate and called soldiers and staff in for meeting after meeting while she listened to the tape player he’d given her. He was ambitious, and he had his sights set on advancement in the ranks despite his youth.

In his early twenties, Bradshaw had seemed more than adult to Ellie at the time. He’d been handsome and professional, and she’d mistaken his distracted gifts for care. So when Bradshaw sat her in his office after she’d escaped that assault and chewed her out, Ellie was shocked.

“He was trying to rape me!”

Bradshaw rolled his eyes. “Right. Let me log that with all your other complaints.”

“I’m not lying! He tried to put his dick in my mouth—”

“Ellie, you nearly killed him. You punctured his colon; he’s still in the hospital.”

“Am I not allowed to fight back when someone tries to fucking rape me?!”

“Colonel Collins is a respected—”

“Bullshit!” she snapped, rising.

Bradshaw’s jaw worked visibly.

“What do you even do?” she asked him in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

“What the fuck is the point of you being my guardian if all you do is take their side? Are you too scared you’ll lose your promotion?”

“Ellie,” he growled.

“What a joke. You’re just like the rest of them, another one of FEDRA’s little bitches.”

He hit her. She was stunned by his blow, stunned by his kick when she fell to the floor, blacked out after his second punch, was shocked that he pushed her to sit up so he could hit her again. She’d been hit before, jumped by a group of kids twice, but there was a difference when a grown man took all his rage out on her.

She came back lying in a puddle of her own blood with Bradshaw crouched over her. She blinked a tear from one swollen eye and moved her mouth. She’d had one stubborn baby tooth in the back of her mouth, but as Ellie swallowed, she felt it slide down her throat.

“I’m not your fucking daddy,” he enunciated. “You want to know who your father is? He’s a petty thief, and he raped your mother but wasn’t kind enough to the world to pull out before he came in her.”

She closed her eyes and shifted, slowly pushing herself up on her hands. She used to chair to climb to her feet and looked Bradshaw in the eye with the one that wasn’t swelling shut. She dribbled blood from her mouth and slurred, “I’d still rather him than you.”

All at once, his anger bled out of him. He studied his hands, closed his fists, and he tilted his head back. For the first time since Ellie knew him, he smiled. In the haze of her concussion, she hallucinated tears in his eyes. “You should thank me for that, Ellie. It’s best to learn early what the world does to pieces of shit like you. You’re transferring to Prep Two. All your strikes are done. Try to aspire to be more than trash.”

Funny to think of Bradshaw now. She hadn’t in years, but Abby had stirred up thoughts about her life in Boston she hadn’t pondered since well before Joel’s death. She’d always thought Bradshaw was a little pissed off man, but now that she had the experience to apply her perspective as a mother to what Bradshaw had done to her…

It was beyond unforgivable, but there was nothing she could do about that but not repeat his mistakes. As Joel had told her time and time again, she had to stop letting people rile her up.

Move on, Dina had always said. Focus on what was important, Abby had stated. And had not knowing her father—or knowing what he might have done to become her father—ever really made a difference to her?

Not a fucking bit.

* * *

Whatever was on Ellie’s face, it made Trey take a double-take. “You okay, Ellie?”

“Sure. I wondered if you have that guitar for JJ still?”

“Actually, I do.” Trey disappeared into the back of his carpentry shop and returned with a small wooden guitar case. He opened it, and Ellie brushed her fingertips over the tiny guitar neck. Only something this small would fit JJ’s little hands. Ellie offered Trey a smile. “Don’t suppose you have an adult one I can borrow?”

Trey disappeared in the back again. When he set the case on the counter, he raised a hand over Ellie’s, stilling her movement. “Keep it.”

“I can’t.”

He smiled. “Yes, you can. Think of it as a homecoming gift. Let me know if you need a nylon string one.”

That fucking hurt, but she smiled and managed eye contact. “Thanks.”

He offered her a nod and smile, tipping an imaginary hat. Did he really know she was immune? No one did more than wave and greet her as she walked down Jackson’s street; it was bizarre to think that everyone in her community knew she was immune and they all just kept carrying on as usual.

When Ellie stepped through her front door, JJ thundered down the stairs. She smiled at him and set down her burdens to accept his tight hug. “Where’s your mama?”

“Here.” Dina stepped out of the kitchen, her gaze steady. Ellie looked back at her, uncertain about the welcome she saw all over Dina’s face. The last they’d talked, Dina had vehemently told her to fuck off. Should she have read more into their exchanged wave on the wall today? Now Dina kissed her cheek, pausing with her hand on Ellie’s jaw. “I love you. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Whatever that meant, Ellie let it go. She only had so much emotional energy to expend at any one time. She settled on the couch and patted for JJ to sit beside her. She set the tiny wooden guitar case on the coffee table. “Go on. Open it.”

JJ shuffled forward in his seat to open the latches. He gasped in happiness as he stared at the tiny guitar.

Ellie removed her own and talked JJ through setting it on his knee, how to hold it, then tuning it, though she did the latter for him. When she gave it back to him, she taught him his first chord.

JJ’s attention held until it was time to wash up for dinner. As Ellie watched him run upstairs—humming happily—she turned back to her guitar and gazed at it. Then, with a hard swallow, she strummed and plucked until a complex tune emerged, and something twisted up tight inside settled back into place.

She’d been afraid to lose this part of herself. After seeing the remnants of Tommy emerge from his wounds after Seattle, she’d wondered what she would do if she lost her music because FEDRA mucked around in her brain.

“That sounds nice.”

It wasn’t a good as her old guitar, but it would do. Ellie glanced up at Dina, who leaned against the kitchen doorframe. Then, with a long breath, she dug into another tune and sang the lyrics as best as she could remember. That last verse came, and Ellie wasn’t surprised to see her entire family at the edges of the room, in various stages of pretense as they listened. She continued,

_“No masters or kings when the ritual begins.  
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin  
In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene.  
Only then am I human.  
Only then am I clean.  
A—amen.”_

Ellie pressed her palm against the strings and glanced up. “They rewarded me with music when I cooperated so I learned a couple new songs. I like that one a lot.”

“Play ‘Valley’,” JJ said. Then he shook himself. “Please.”

Ellie smiled at JJ and wet her lips, conjuring the lyrics and chords. He’d always loved this song, even as a toddler, probably more for the whistling than the dark lyrics. “Alright, buddy. I can do that.”

* * *

That night in bed, Dina coaxed Ellie to rest her head in her lap. She stroked her fingers through Ellie’s hair and said, “So you’re going to go with the Fireflies.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you told them that yet?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to talk to them together.”

Ellie glanced up at Dina, who tugged at her earlobe gently. “We need more information, Ellie. Who’s in charge? Will they let you go when they’re done? Do they intend to kill you?”

“Al’s in charge of the medical stuff. She told me she’ll control that, and she’ll defer to me about medical decisions. I won’t let her kill me.”

“No?”

“Not if there’s another choice.”

“See, that’s what scares me.” Dina’s smile softened. She ran her thumb along Ellie’s lower lip. “I know you pretend to be this badass killer, but, babe, you’re too fucking noble for this world.”

Noble? Ellie couldn’t hold her gaze.

“Did you kiss Riley before it happened?”

It was a shot of fear, that knowledge that Dina carried. Dina’s eyes were dark in the low light. “Our first kiss/Her last stand/The brother’s cry? Are you still waiting for your turn?”

Ellie had never played the song, not with anyone else in hearing. She’d written and played a couple other stupid songs, but the ones that meant something to her were too close. “You read them?”

“Just trying to figure out what the hell happened to you, El. Tommy found a FEDRA wanted poster with your face on it, but I thought it had to come back to Santa Barbara, and I can count on one hand how many words you’ve used talking about it. So is this for them or is it for us?”

Dina sighed when Ellie didn’t have an immediate answer. “You aren’t at fault because you survived.”

“It’s not about that anymore.”

“Bullshit,” Dina replied, though gently.

“Joel used to say that when you have a family, they should be your priority. Make them happy and keep them safe. I _feel_ that. I love you both so much, but what if the only way I can keep you safe is to make you sad?”

“There has to be another way.”

“I wish there were, but it’s not like there are a bunch of immune people out there to take my place. Believe me, if there were, I’d let them do it.”

“And what if the only choice is to give your life?”

“Then that’s what I’ll have to do.” When Dina’s expression soured, Ellie hastened to say, “Dina, do you want me to lie to you?”

“No. I just… How do you know you can trust them? What if they treat you just like FEDRA did? I know Al gave you that assurance, but what if she doesn’t have that power?”

The truth was stranger voiced than in her head: “I trust Abby.”

“You trust Abby,” Dina replied in disbelief.

“Yeah. I do.”

“How does it even work? This supposed vaccine? Your immunity?”

“I don’t know. Al stole data from the lab, but… They hadn’t figured it out by the time I escaped.”

“If FEDRA couldn’t figure out why you’re immune after months of…” Dina seemed to choke on the thought. “…tell me how the Fireflies can give your immunity to other people.”

“I don’t know, Dina. I can’t even remember Koch’s Postulates so that stuff is way over my head.”

Dina wasn’t distracted. “That Al woman. She’s some expert at this?”

“She worked at the lab a long time ago. She ran it.”

“Well,” Dina replied, her voice tight. “We’re going to talk to her together. You may have made the decision on your own, but we need to face this together, as a family.”

* * *

Ellie found Abby in the hotel lobby. She was helping Brianna clean the mess the Rattlers left on the ground floor. Abby smiled in greeting. Ellie had spent the better part of a year reliving Abby and her evil in her military clothes that seeing her smile like a normal person in jeans and a t-shirt was just fucking weird.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Abby straightened without a wince and glanced at Brianna, who waved her off with a smile. Brianna got to her feet to take Ellie’s hand and squeezed gently. “Glad to have you home, Ellie. And fuck the Rattlers.”

“Thanks.”

“Dina’s pretty badass, isn’t she?”

“Where do you think I learned it from?” Ellie joked.

Abby led her upstairs to her room. It might be awkward, but she left the hall door propped, and the adjoining door to the next room was open too. Lev and Al sat together on one bed with Tara’s laptop holding their attention. Abby gestured for Ellie to take a seat by the fire in the hearth. Abby settled beside her and dug through the bag at her feet.

“What’s up?”

“My wife wants to talk to you. All of you.”

“Why?”

Abby’s smile slowly faded into pure disbelief. Funny that Abby would know her well enough to guess the answer. Funny that Ellie felt an ease talking to her that she hadn’t quite regained with her own wife.

“No. You don’t have to—”

“I think I do.”

Abby glanced at Al quickly, who met her gaze with a sad smile. “You knew?”

“We talked yesterday,” Ellie said.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Abby whispered tightly. Her shoulders slumped as she studied the other two Fireflies. “So we’re going back.”

“There isn’t enough here. I need my lab on the island.” Al looked at Abby with regret.

“Lev?”

He glanced from Al to Abby with a frown. Whatever she saw on Lev’s face made Abby’s eyes glaze with tears; Ellie was surprised by the betrayal she read in Abby’s expression. Lev immediately crossed the room.

“Can you give us a minute?” he asked Ellie.

Ellie walked into the room with Al as Lev shut himself and Abby into the adjoining room. Their voices were muffled. Ellie was surprised by Abby’s obvious frustration.

“Find out anything new?” Ellie asked, nodding at the laptop.

“Inferring some interesting politics from Tara’s notes. But nothing concrete about your immunity.” Al hesitated. “Are you feeling better?”

“It’s settling in.” Ellie walked to the window and looked out across Main Street. Wes had a quartered deer tied to his horse. He’d had a busy few days hunting. She would love to have the time and freedom to ride into the woods for a day or two with her bow or rifle.

The door between the rooms opened, and Lev walked back through, retaking his spot by Al. Ellie glanced through the door; Abby was standing with her arms crossed, her back to the room. Abby glanced over one shoulder as she wiped her face, and by the time she turned, she’d put some effort into her smile. She tried for a casual tone.

“So when are we leaving?”

“I need a week or two more with my family.”

Abby’s mouth moved as she worked through that information. She nodded, her lips pursed in a pout. Ellie found herself saying, “You’re invited to dinner tonight. All of you.”

“Sure,” was Abby’s tense reply. She sank back into her seat with a sigh that seemed to take all the tension out of her body. With energy, she tugged her backpack between her feet and dug through it. She opened her mouth to speak before her brow tightened, and all her attention focused on something within that bag.

Abby tugged out her gas mask and turned it over slowly, pushing at a separation between the mask and the gasket that ran the length of the right side. Ellie was amused to watch her put on the mask, press her palm against the filter and repeat that action a second time in obvious panic.

“Relax. You’d be turned by now if it broke while you were using it.”

“Shit. There’s still this second of panic, you know?” Abby abruptly smiled, setting her mask down. “Or maybe you don’t remember anymore.”

“You mean the two days I thought I was going to die? Still remember that.”

“I had that happen. The Rattlers would host these pit fights. They’d call it pool time. They’d blindfold me to make it ‘fair’, and once I got bit. The next day, my overseer walks by and asks me if I’m immune to Rattler venom.”

“You kill him?”

“Her. And no,” Abby muttered. “Your family doing okay?”

Not as strange a segue, and that hurt. “As well as can be expected.”

“Bet they’re glad you’re home.”

“Yeah.”

From Abby’s expression, she hadn’t considered how those words would sound in light of Ellie’s decision. She winced, and in the face of Ellie’s silence, lowered her voice to say, “You can change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

Abby nodded dejectedly. Then Lev called her name, and Abby caught the roll of tape he tossed her. She smoothed a conservative strip over the inside of her mask and tested it again before slipping the straps on the front of the mask. “Always store it with the straps stretched across the front. Helps you get it on faster.”

“Okay, Rambo,” Ellie replied dryly. “Except I don’t need one.”

“Maybe not for spores. Doubt your infection protects you from tear gas though.”

“Fair point.” She stood, looked at the Fireflies in the room, and had to escape the tension that still hung between them and the obvious funk Abby had fallen into. “Come by tonight for dinner. It’s the yellow two-story house north of the graveyard. Be prepared for a grilling.”

“Ha,” Lev said after a moment. “A pun. You get it, Abby?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Abby sighed.

* * *

Abby’s limp was barely discernible as she stepped into the house. She looked around cautiously, but her smile was wide when she waved at JJ. “Hey, dude!”

He smiled up at her and bumped her fist when she offered it.

The only time the smile slid from Abby’s face was when she studied the pictures on the mantle. Ellie stepped beside her and glanced at Jesse’s portrait. She’d sketched it a few years ago for JJ; it was one of her few illustrations that the Rattlers hadn’t destroyed.

“Was that painting of Joel? The red one in that garage. You signed the two next to it.”

“Yeah.”

Abby nodded tensely and set the picture carefully back on the mantle, shifting it to an angle that satisfied her. Ellie jerked her head. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

Ellie stood with Dina beside JJ as Dina lit two candles on the table. Then Ellie reached out to touch JJ’s shoulder as Dina held his other shoulder and said, “May God bless you and keep you. May God shine his light upon you and be gracious to you. May you feel God’s presence within you always, forever and ever, and may you find peace.”

“Amen,” the family intoned. Ellie smiled as she watched Dina kiss JJ’s head. He was already on the move for dinner by the time Dina let him go. He’d been whining for the last hour, asking for a snack every few minutes; the whole house smelled like the venison shanks that had been stewing down for hours.

Fuck, how was she going to tell him she was leaving again? It was the most unforgivable thing about the situation.

After dinner, Dina sent JJ upstairs to watch a movie with his grandparents, and Al glanced across the table to ask, “What’s this about?”

“Ellie tells me she plans to go with you to find this cure. So I have a few questions.”

Al indicated Dina should start.

“Who makes decisions in the Fireflies?”

“Yasmin is the leader of the outpost,” Al replied. “But she’ll defer to me, and I’ll defer to Ellie.”

“Will you let her go?”

“At any point,” Al said firmly.

“Is it safe there?”

“Yeah,” Abby replied this time. “Our little island is kind of a paradise to be honest.”

“Why not do it here? This cure thing? Let Ellie stay with her family while you do your experiments?”

“I need imagining, PCR, microscopy, things that Jackson doesn’t have access to. All my notes and previous samples are there too. I need more time, and I likely will need more samples, but…” Al turned to Ellie. “I’ll talk you through it all.”

“Are you better at spinal taps than Jae?”

“I think a monkey would be better at spinal taps than Jae.”

It felt good to find humor at Jae’s expense. Dina looked back and forth between Al and Ellie, unamused. “How do you know you can make a cure in the first place?”

“I’m…not certain I can. But we haven’t ruled it out.”

“What did FEDRA find out?” Ellie asked. Al studied her, question clear on her face. Ellie shook her head. Al firmed and promptly listed off tissues, fluids, and tests and what the fuck they meant.

With each added test that Ellie hadn’t been aware of, her horror rose. But it was Abby who became visibly agitated. “Jesus Christ,” she said after Al stated they’d taken biopsies of Ellie’s kidneys. “Is there any part of her they didn’t touch?”

“Did they…” Ellie hesitated. “Did they take my eggs?”

“Yes,” was Al’s quiet reply. Before Ellie’s horror could rise, Abby said, “If they stored it in the lab, all the samples are gone, other than what Al took.”

“How do you know they’re gone?”

“Did you hear the explosion? Al blew the whole place up.”

When Ellie looked up, Al met her gaze steadily. The relief that swept her at that knowledge was a shock. That fucking hellhole was gone, her samples had been destroyed. No one could make anything whole from what they’d taken from her. If it was gone, then maybe FEDRA wouldn’t pursue her here.

“I never thought I’d meet someone who could hate that lab more than I did. I… Ellie, I put together that program of what to do if we ever found an immune individual.”

“I guess consent wasn’t a big priority in FEDRA.”

“I didn’t even consider that part of it at the time. I’m sorry.”

“When they sampled my brain, Tara said it was a safe procedure. Was she lying?”

“No. Complication rates for planned stereotactic brain biopsies are low. They were careful to avoid important structures. Do you remember it?”

She did, bits and pieces of lying in the MRI with a frame attached to her skull by points of terrible pressure. She remembered Tara’s murmured commands, the sound of the drill, and the odd weight of that frame on her neck. It had been coming back a little at a time, like a fever dream. She glanced over when Dina took her hand and squeezed gently. “A little.”

“Have you noticed any deficits?”

“Would I?”

“Yes.”

She’d been so afraid to confront this but now that she knew, she felt enormous relief.

“Tara suspected your infection allows you to heal neurologically in the ways the rest of us can’t. It was discovered in infected decades ago.”

“Jae said my infection was like the one in the long-term survivors. That my immune system is so chill about my infection I don’t have any side-effects except good ones.”

“Simply put, yes. There’s actually a small subset of people who resist infection for nearly two days, but they’re so sick from their immune system going haywire they die within a week of turning. Ellie… Can I ask you some questions? About when you were infected and any potential re-exposures?”

“Knock yourself out.” She wished she could have a drink while they did this. At least human conversation wasn’t so awkward anymore.

“Were you sick when you were first exposed?”

“I think I had a fever that first night, but it wasn’t… I wasn’t exactly paying attention for my memoirs.”

Al offered her a faint smile. “Were you infected with someone else?”

“Al, Jesus,” Abby exclaimed.

“Abby, you don’t have to protect me.” When Abby leaned back in her seat with her arms folded and her mouth closed, Ellie turned her attention back to Al. “Yeah. I was bitten with someone else.”

“Different infected?”

“Yeah. Same horde though. Both runners. I think mine was a man and hers was a woman. She turned. I didn’t.”

“Was there anything you were exposed to before and after that she wasn’t?”

“I don’t think so. We kissed right before we got bit if that matters.”

That made everyone turn to her. Dina squeezed Ellie’s hand again. Al murmured, “I’m sorry. What was her name?”

“Riley.”

“Where and when were you exposed again?”

“Are we talking spores or bites?”

“Both.”

“Shit.” Ellie considered, having to really parse through her memory to pin it down. “I breathed spores about three weeks after I got bit. In Boston. I think Joel finally believed I was immune when he saw that. I think maybe in Colorado and Salt Lake City? And then near Jackson a few years ago. Seattle a few times about five years ago. Then the BART.”

“And bites?”

“In the truck. A runner.” Ellie touched the pink scar on her left arm.

“Santa Barbara,” Dina supplied. Ellie glanced at her in surprise, then she turned her hand over and tapped the outside of her left palm. She’d forgotten. “Yeah, four years ago, Santa Barbara.”

“Wait,” Abby murmured, her gaze searching. “Before or after we fought?”

It took a second to tie the bite into the same timeline as her pursuit of Abby. “Before.”

“How long?” Al asked.

“Maybe an hour.”

Abby retched before staggering out of the kitchen to retch a few more times over the back porch. Go figure, Abby was a puker. Beside Ellie, Dina gagged too. She stood up, pressed a hand to her chest, and smiled to ward off her sympathetic nausea. Ellie didn’t feel so great herself in the moment, but she took a few deep breaths for her stomach to settle.

Abby’s face was gray when she walked back into the kitchen.

“You’d know by now if I infected you, Abby. It’s been four fucking years.”

“Reflex,” Abby muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. “Fuck, that hurt my back.”

“Can one of you please explain to me what happened?”

“The clicker bit me. Then I fought Abby, and she bit off my fingers because I was drowning her.”

“Ellie!” Dina gasped, predictably upset by the white lie. Ellie offered her a shrug and apologetic wince. It wasn’t like the difference between the truth and lie actually mattered, but she knew by now that Dina would consider the difference important enough to note.

After Abby splashed water on her cheeks, she turned back to grin over one shoulder. “Dina, have you ever ready _The Body_?”

Lev sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “You’re so gross.”

“We saw the movie, _Stand by Me._ She can’t watch that part.”

“Oh, God.” Dina grinned ferociously, as if trying to sneer away her nausea. “I have a strong gag reflex, okay?”

By mutual decision, they relocated to the living room. As they sat down, Al asked, “How did you get out of the lab? I haven’t been able to figure that out.”

She took a long breath and fidgeted with her fingers, her heart rising with the thought of those desperate moments. Abby said, “With a broken guitar string, apparently.”

“And a piece of tape,” Ellie corrected. “Joel would have called it a regular MacGyver.”

“You taped her pressure release valve?”

Ellie nodded. “So she couldn’t sedate me when I killed Hyde.”

“Was there a Jekyll?” Abby asked.

Then it spilled out of her, everything leading up to the desperation she felt after that last procedure. Then the culmination of it all during her escape.

“I didn’t mean to kill Tara.”

“You didn’t kill her. I did,” Al replied evenly. Her grief in that truck seemed a distant thing, but maybe Ellie had mistaken relief for grief. She’d discounted the fact that Tara might be just as evil to someone she claimed to love.

“She asked me to implant one of the samples they took from your CBI into her own brain.”

“Would that have worked?”

“I’m not sure. The next stage of their experimentation would be doing that to lab subjects at various stages of infection, but they never got that far.”

“How many samples did they take?”

“They would have needed more,” Al admitted.

Ellie reminded herself the lab was destroyed, and Jae and Tara were both dead. “Jae said my fungus doesn’t produce hyphae, just spores.”

“That’s mostly true. You do have hyphae in your brain, but it’s…”

“What?”

“To me, your infection looks like it was arrested only an hour or two into your illness. For the sake of science, I wish you hadn’t burned your arm. Those cysts could have proven valuable to sample.”

“Isn’t it obvious how this works though?” Abby finally said from her spot by the fireplace. “The hyphae in Ellie’s brain must be mutated.”

Al leaned back to meet Abby’s gaze. “It didn’t though. Even the immature hyphae in Ellie’s brain are the same genetically as wildtype.”

“What about phenotypic mutations?” Abby asked.

“Look at you,” Al replied with an affectionate smile. “No. Ellie’s infection produces the same proteins as wildtype. Whatever makes Ellie immune isn’t her fungus.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No one else does either. Hence this discussion.”

“Then it wouldn’t have worked. His vaccine.”

Al sobered. “I…can’t predict what would have happened after Ellie’s sample was harvested, but based on what we know… I suspect not.”

“Fuck.” Abby folded her arms and rested her head back against the wall, her broad shoulders in a tight line. “It would have killed him.”

“I’m sorry, Abby, but your father was wrong.”

“Father?” Ellie murmured, everything inside going quiet.

Abby offered Ellie a pained smile. “My father was Dr. Jerry Anderson. He was the head of Salt Lake City branch of the Fireflies. It was his call to kill you to extract your infection.”

“J Anderson,” Ellie whispered. She swayed as the answer to that last lingering question clicked into place. Ellie felt herself still, and a ball of ice expanded within her chest as something else occurred to her. Her voice sounded strange as she asked, “Did Joel kill your father?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it ever about the cure?”

Abby’s bitter answer was, “Nope.”

No. Fucking no.

Ellie’s breath wouldn’t come. She doubled over under an immeasurable weight that abruptly crushed her chest. She clutched at her sternum, which felt twisted up tight like a rubber band. Even as Dina leaned over her, caught her hand, and murmured in her ear, Ellie couldn’t control the sobs that wracked her body.

“Fuck! It doesn’t matter,” she gasped at herself. “It doesn’t even matter…”

And it didn’t. Joel had killed Abby’s father for the same reason he stopped the Fireflies from creating the vaccine. This strange mix of relief and horror was meaningless, but for whatever reason, Ellie’s brain told her she had to revel in this somatic response.

When Ellie looked up, Abby was wiping tears from her cheeks. For the first time, Ellie saw that Abby’s grief was a mirror to her own. She rested her head back in her palm.

“Dina, can we just stop for now?”

“Yeah, of course,” was Dina’s quiet reply. But as Dina walked the Fireflies out, Ellie heard her ask, “Will you kill her to make the cure?”

“No,” Abby said, firm despite the tears that colored her voice. Then Al said, “Only if there’s no other choice, and only if she makes that choice.”

When Dina walked back into the living room, she looked up. Ellie followed her gaze to Robin and James standing on the stairs. They descended and settled on the couch on either side of Ellie. Robin wrapped Ellie’s shoulders in her arm and pressed a kiss to her temple.

* * *

JJ seemed to have the time of his life riding Rainbow again. The little pony had a few bites of on her rump, but she was well on her way to healing after a few applications of honey into her wounds. The pony was more than happy to accept JJ’s saddle, and she pranced like a Tennessee Walker as she cantered and trotted and then tentatively jumped over a marker on the ground.

When they finished their lesson, JJ spent nearly an hour brushing Rainbow down, murmuring to her baby-shushes that he was glad she was okay. Ellie perched on the stall door and sketched his face, his freshly cut curly hair, and the pony that nibbled at his sleeve.

“JJ… I need to talk to you.”

He looked back at her, his smile gone and fear in his eyes. Ellie smiled sadly at her son. “I love you. So much. You know that right?”

He nodded jerkily.

“I love you, but when Abby and her friends leave next week, I’m going to go with them.”

He didn’t scream or pout, but he did blink out a few silent tears. “Why?”

Ellie wondered if a tantrum might be easier to stomach than his grief. She held herself steady as she replied, “Because they need me to figure out how to fight the infected. A long time ago, we didn’t have it at all, and if I go, maybe we can find a way to make the world like that again.”

“I don’t care about that.”

Sometime in the months she’d been gone, JJ had lost his baby voice. Maybe that was what made him seem so much closer to grown up. It hurt but also filled her with love to see all the little changes that were turning him into his own little person. She couldn’t baby him about this.

“I do. I worry every day about it, about what kind of world I’m going to give you when you’re my age.”

“I want you to stay.”

“I do too, JJ. So much. But I can’t. Mama, you, and I, we’re a family, but there are millions of other families out there just like us. When we do this, we’ll be protecting them too.”

He didn’t have anything to say for a minute. Then, “Can I go with you?”

Ellie choked back her tears and shook her head as she found her voice. “No, baby. It’s too dangerous. I know Jackson hasn’t felt safe, but it is, and it’ll feel safe soon. But outside these walls isn’t. JJ, I need you to stay for Mama and Gramps and Gram, okay?”

“Are you coming back?”

She hated that he knew enough to ask that. Another lie would be easier than the truth. “Yes. I don’t know when. But I’m going to come home. That’s my promise to you, Potato.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know,” Ellie said softly. When JJ walked towards her, she slipped off the stall door and let him fold her tight into his little body. His hands twisted tight in her coat. And, in her arms, he said, “I won’t be mad this time.”

Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ellie squeezed him to her and pressed kisses to his head and neck. “Buddy, that didn’t bother me. You can be mad if you’re mad. I know you love me, and I hope you know I love you too.”

He nodded and kissed her face.

 _Keep them safe, please_. Ellie focused on her wish and realized it was a prayer. To who or what, she didn’t know.

* * *

When Ellie looked out her craft room’s window to see Maria in the graveyard, she set down her guitar. JJ looked up in alarm, but she bent down to kiss his head. “Gonna go talk to Maria, okay? Want to walk with me?”

Maria saw them approaching and offered a tight smile. Ellie rocked in place beside her, looking down at the Millers’ graves, though she consciously monitored JJ’s wandering path through the graveyard. After a few minutes of silence, Maria murmured, “We mended things.”

Ellie glanced at Maria out of the corner of her eye. She pushed her hands into her pockets and smiled as that information filled her with gentle relief. Good for Tommy. Good for Maria. At least they’d found some happiness together before his death. “I’m glad.”

“He probably would have noticed how many traders we had at once if he hadn’t moved back in with me. We might have realized the threat.”

“Didn’t you say something to me about selfish recrimination?” Ellie asked her. Maria released a long breath and offered Ellie a tight smile. “Yes, I did, and you’re right.”

“I’m going with the Fireflies, Maria.”

Maria pressed a hand to her chest and worked her mouth. “So that’s it? Just leaving Jackson to heal without you?”

“This is what I have to do. Just… If FEDRA comes looking for me again, tell them where to find me. Collect the bounty and send them my way. The Fireflies are based on Catalina Island.”

“I’m not going to change your mind, am I?”

“No.”

Maria nodded and raised her gaze to the sky; her eyes had gone glassy with tears. Ellie had never seen this hard woman cry before. “Lord knows, we had hope when it all started that there’d be a vaccine, treatment, cure. We were certain of it.”

“I know it seems like a long-shot, but—”

“I would have given my firstborn for a cure at the start. Now…” Maria shook her head. “It’s not worth it.”

Ellie choked out Maria’s name. When Maria reached out to her, Ellie stepped into her arms. Maria’s hugs were usually a thing of brevity, but today, she just held on tight. Ellie sighed into her shoulder.

“You come back,” Maria commanded, her voice firm in Ellie’s ear. “And you take your place here once and for all. I need someone to run this place after I’m gone.”

“Me? Maria, that’s…”

“Mainly I need your wife.”

Ellie chuckled. Maria squeezed her shoulder, her eye contact firm. “You have a good head on your shoulders, Ellie. How about keep it there?”

Ellie smiled at Maria’s joke, but Maria was too busy pulling her back in for another hug to note it.

* * *

Jim had fucked up her revolver well and good. She’d had to use a mallet to get the cylinder open. Now she took the whole thing apart and sighed as she studied the ejector rod. Not only had it been loose, it was bent. Fucking idiot. He’d probably been playing with it.

JJ sat in her lap, watching her every move. Dina was embroidering, Robin was listening to one of her three books on tape, and James had the record player going quietly in the background as he repaired Ellie’s coat.

Her bow had been much simpler to restring—a blessing that the bow hadn’t been damaged—but this was going to take a little work.

She shifted the bright desk lamp and explained why she’d had to use the mallet. She had JJ sight down the barrel and asked him to help her figure out if the ejector rod was bent. He spent about thirty seconds studying the rod before he nodded seriously. Ellie leaned over as she spun the ejector rod. “Yep, I think you’re right. It’s bent. It was loose too, which made the cylinder stick. This is why you use your hand to close the cylinder. These guns aren’t toys.”

They fixed it carefully, then cleaned the revolver. Given how dirty it was, Jim hadn’t cleaned it despite firing it at least fifty times. By the time they finished, the revolver was shiny, and the cylinder moved back and forth smoothly.

“Good job.” Ellie didn’t let go of the revolver as she handed it to JJ. “First rule.”

“Check for rounds.” He gasped at its full weight but opened the cylinder to confirm it was clear. “Empty.”

His hands were so small. He looked up at Ellie, and she pulled on a smile. He said, “Mr. Jim held it funny.”

“Yeah?”

“Like…” JJ set down the revolver carefully. He held up his hands, miming having the gun, and then he kicked his hands up as if the recoil were punching them up higher with each shot.

“You see him shoot a lot?”

“He shot my dog.”

Ellie hesitated. “How does that make you feel?”

“Sad. And angry.”

“It’s okay to feel that way. What was your dog’s name?”

“Spot.”

“Did he have spots?”

“No. He was brown.”

Any other time, and Ellie would laugh over the incongruous answers. “Can I tell you something that helps me when I’m sad and angry about losing someone I love?”

He nodded, shifting his painfully skinny little butt against her thighs. She helped rearrange him so he could look her in the eye. “Try thinking about how much time you had with Spot. To give him treats and play with him and make him happy. And how little time it was that he was scared and died. That’s a big difference, right?”

JJ nodded again, looking like he was thinking it over. Ellie couldn’t choke back her tears as she said, “I struggled with that for a long time about Joel, but I think it really helps.” Ellie brushed his hair back from his forehead. “I do the same thing when I think about your dad. He was dang happy when he found out about you, and I think that’s a pretty awesome thing that he got to know about you before he died.”

“I don’t want you to die,” JJ mumbled, slumping against her shoulder.

Ellie folded him to her and squeezed him tight, rocking him back and forth. “Everybody dies, JJ, but I’ll do everything I can to make it back home to you. How about this? When I get back, how about I take you out on a squirrel hunt? Gramps can make his tasty squirrel pies for us.”

JJ managed a smile, but when Ellie glanced over her shoulder, Robin was crying silently with her hand over her mouth, and James was visibly fighting tears. Dina was the only one among them with dry eyes, but Ellie felt her sorrow the keenest.

* * *

JJ had a bath first—the first hot bath back in their home since they’d come back to Jackson—and then James refreshed the water with a few kettles of boiling water for Ellie. She sank into the tub and sighed as she relaxed into the heat of it.

It had been a good day of rest. She, Dina, and JJ had a picnic, and they’d taken JJ to watch a movie with all the other kids of Jackson. Nearly the whole town had turned out to watch some silly kids’ movie they’d all seen before. They’d finished up with dinner at the Tipsy Bison with James and Robin before returning home. After her bath, she was going to read JJ a bedtime story and tuck him in.

Ellie looked down her body, wondering at its subtle strangeness. Her body had continued to do what she’d asked of it despite what that lab had done to her. Ellie smoothed a hand down her throat, between her breasts, and down the small, new curve of her abdomen, cupping between her legs absently.

She stirred when the door opened. Ellie tilted her head back and exchanged a smile with Dina, who shut and locked the door behind her.

“Wash your back?”

“Thanks.”

Ellie sat up and sighed as Dina scrubbed Ellie’s back with a soapy washcloth. When Ellie was rinsed, Dina pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. Ellie cupped her head and kept her right where she was, sighing as Dina’s mouth became more aggressive.

When Dina took Ellie’s earlobe between her teeth, Ellie sank back into her touch. Dina murmured, “Do you want…?”

“Fuck me, Dina.”

Dina’s touch was firm pleasure between her legs, and her voice warm and soft in Ellie’s ear. “What do you want, Ellie?”

“Your mouth. Please.”

Only a few minutes later, Dina was naked, her clothes in a messy pile on the floor. Ellie sat on the edge of the tub with Dina crouched on the tile with her mouth between Ellie’s legs. So fucking beautiful, so good… Ellie loved Dina so goddamn much.

Later, they lay entwined in the cooling bath water. Dina used gentle fingertips to trace the small scars on Ellie’s arm from all the catheters. She drew Ellie’s wrist to her mouth to kiss the string of numbers and faint scar there. She touched Ellie’s scalp before stroking her fingertips over Ellie’s cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Dina replied gently. She lifted her legs and sat up slightly to catch Ellie’s gaze. “What are you thinking?”

Ellie concentrating on relaxing each muscle in time with her even breaths.

“Did you notice?”

Dina’s brow gathered in question.

“I’m pregnant.”

Dina stilled, then she sat back to look at Ellie in shock. Ellie offered a tense smile. “Don’t worry. It’s not yours.”

“Ellie, did they…?”

Ellie should have expected Dina would immediately jump to checking in with her. She could guess the end of that sentence by Dina’s searching gaze. “No risk of that. No one would touch me without four layers between me and them. Insemination.”

“How…do you feel about it?”

“I think I want it,” she admitted quietly.

“How far…?”

“Fifteen weeks.” Dina’s eyes that had gone liquid with emotion; Ellie had to head off any expectations. “It doesn’t change anything for me. I can’t expect anything but losing it.”

Dina cupped her cheek and pressed a soft kiss to Ellie’s mouth. She pressed their foreheads together. “Thank you for telling me, El.”

“I almost didn’t. Wasn’t sure if this makes things worse.”

“If only I could change your mind,” Dina murmured absently.

“I don’t want to go, Dina. This isn’t me abandoning you because I hate myself. This is…”

“Please don’t say it’s for us.”

Ellie held her breath. “Even if it is?”

“Fuck the world. All I want is you. And now…” Dina pressed her palm to Ellie’s abdomen.

“You’d want it too?”

“It’s your body, but we’re a family, Ellie. I support whatever decision you make, and if you want this, then it’ll be mine too. That’s how this works.”

“’Til death do us part?”

“Ellie…”

“The only way I can protect you from those people, the ones who’ll go through you to get to me, is to deliver the cure. And I’d rather trust Abby and her people than FEDRA. I still worry about you being where they can find you.”

“I’m not leaving my home. I was on the run for years with Talia, afraid of some imaginary boogeyman that never materialized. I won’t do that to JJ. And how will you find us again if we don’t stay?”

Ellie swallowed her tears at that statement. Dina was too goddamn good for this world, and way too good for Ellie. “I think I’ve been crying more in the last few days than the whole rest of my life.”

“Tends to happen,” Dina said gently. “What if we went with you?”

It was ridiculously tempting. To be not so alone, to have her family nearby, to know at least they were safe because they were with her. But the answer remained, “I want you with me, but…”

Dina squeezed her shoulders. “It wouldn’t be safe for JJ.”

“Or you. They could use you both as leverage even if we get there safely.”

“You said you trust her.”

“I trust Abby’s group but the Fireflies collectively… If it’s just me, I might be able to get out, but I wouldn’t if they have both of you.”

“You’re right,” Dina admitted.

Above even that, JJ needed Jackson, his friends, and his family. He needed structure after all the turmoil that rocked his life this year. The hard part was the trade-off between the structure of his mother and his home. She couldn’t promise not to give her life if that was what they needed, but the decision wouldn’t be easy.

“If I don’t… If something happens to me, and if the baby lives…can I ask Abby to bring the baby back to you?”

Dina started crying against her shoulder, but she nodded. “Yes.” After a moment, she swallowed her tears and said, “Promise me something.”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Promise after all this is done, if you’re still… Promise me that you’ll come home.”

The fact she’d have to ask made Ellie fight tears herself. “Dina, there’s nowhere else I’d go.”

“Hey…” Dina pulled Ellie’s right hand from the water and gently twirled her ring around her index finger. “You want to know what it says?”

“Only if you want to tell me.”

“It says, ‘I am yours and you are mine.’ Classic and cheesy, but it’s true.” Dina kissed her gently. She brushed her nose against Ellie’s. “Remember that. You made me a promise, and I know you made one to yourself a long time ago, but Ellie, the world didn’t make one back.”

Ellie struggled with Dina’s words, the emotion behind them, and the love in her eyes. Dina cupped her cheek, gaining her attention again. “If it comes down to that choice, if there’s any other option, promise me you’ll take it.”

Ellie examined Dina’s request and realized it was a promise she could make. She nodded, met Dina’s gaze, and said, “Okay.”

* * *

She didn’t want fanfare, and she didn’t get it, but even if all of Jackson didn’t come by, enough of Ellie’s friends did for her to know that word had spread around town about her decision. It turned out that Ellie had a lot more friends than she realized.

Abby came by alone the day before they were set to leave, downcast and unhappy. She wore her Firefly jacket again, in cargo pants and military boots. The light of the afternoon illuminated the deep scar on her jaw and those that covered the skin of her forearm below her rolled up sleeves.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty fucking sure,” Ellie replied.

“Why?”

“I have to. For them.” Ellie remembered Abby’s disbelief and anger in that hotel room. “You could stay.”

“No, I can’t. Not if they’re going, and not if you’re going.”

Ellie sighed. Abby looked back at her unhappily.

“If you change your mind about this, I’ll get you out.” Abby abruptly grinned. “Not that you’d need my help, MacGyver.”

“Why are you so against this?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t feel right.”

“The Fireflies having the cure doesn’t feel right?”

“Does it matter what faction has it? FEDRA will swoop in to steal it from us—”

“Then they’ll be after the cure and not me or my family. I don’t give a fuck who distributes it, but if that group can use it to stop the spread of infection, that’ll be good enough for me.”

Abby’s mouth pressed into a straight line, and she nodded slowly. “None of this feels fair, you know? You surviving and escaping that, your family surviving what they did, for you not to be able to earn the right to be together again.”

“I plan to come back.”

“Good,” was Abby’s one-word reply.

* * *

Maria walked down to the gates with the rest of Ellie’s family the next morning. It was early, but Jackson had always been up and about at dawn. Ellie knew their little congress gathered discreet stares, but all she cared about was her family.

The Fireflies were already gathered around their truck. They’d painted over the FEDRA decal but thankfully hadn’t put a Firefly symbol up there. Maria had been kind enough to give them fuel, even if there wasn’t much else to spare.

Ellie wished she had something beautiful to give each of her loved ones as they embraced in turn: a saying or consolation or promise. Instead, she just held them close, tried to memorize the smell and feel of their bodies, and soaked in their love. It was over too damn fast, like time had sped up without Ellie noticing.

It felt surreal that less than five minutes after JJ and Dina kissed her for what could be the last time, she was sitting in a truck listening to disco. This was her reality.

“You ever heard of ‘Classical Gas’?” Ellie asked Abby on the second day. She motioned for Abby to take the right shoulder to pass a cluster of crashed cars blocking the road.

“Is this leading into a fart joke?”

“No, Jesus, are you three? It’s an instrumental song. Awesome guitar solo. Seems like something you’d like.” Ellie dug through her bag and plucked out a mixed tape. She ejected Abby’s classical tape and inserted hers. She glanced over at Abby intermittently as the song played, pleased to see Abby’s smile. Maybe her taste in music was redeemable.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“I don’t know,” Ellie retorted. “Can you?”

“How old are you?”

“Didn’t we already—” Ellie rolled her eyes when she realized Abby’s question wasn’t what she was leading into. She muttered, “Hilarious. What?”

“What do spores smell like?”

That wasn’t a weird question, but Abby’s attempt at a casual tone made it weird. If not for that, Ellie would have offered an off-the-cuff reply. Ellie pondered the answer before deciding it was worth answering truthfully. “Kind of like those little dried brown fruits. They remind me of buttholes. I ate a bunch in the CBI lab.”

“So when you said it smells like ass, you meant it.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. Lev scared the shit out of both of them when he pushed between the seats and said, “Apricots?”

That prompted a sputter of laughter from Abby. “Apricots are buttholes? Really? They’re sweet though.”

“Kind of, yeah,” Ellie agreed. “Musky. Meaty. Sweet.”

“But not acrid? Like ammonia?” Abby asked.

Ellie shook her head. “Nope. It’s not really that bad of a smell, honestly.”

“Strange.”

“You get used to it. Sometimes I smell infected before I hear them. Can any of you do that?”

A chorus of ‘no’s was her answer. Al stirred and raised her gaze, drawing Abby’s attention in the rear-view mirror. “I’ll have to check your scans again to see if your olfactory tract is affected by your infection. It would make sense, given that’s where hyphae first erupt in most advanced infected forms.”

“Glad to be a novelty, ma’am,” Ellie replied dryly. “Any other probing questions?”

Abby shook her head and turned back to the road, quiet for the next few hours.

They established an easy banter in the days it took to get to California. Though it took twice as long to get to LA as they’d planned, the trip wasn’t miserable because of the company. The roads were fucked, Vegas was a mess of cars, and the usual routes through LA were blocked. By the time they got to the northern-most Firefly dock, it had been a week since they left Jackson.

The fact there were no boats moored visibly raised Abby’s unease. She turned on the radio, and Al flicked through stations, trying to pick up any chatter. The radio was static and silence, an eerie accompaniment to the quiet streets and empty docks.

“Maybe they got called back.” Abby didn’t seem to think her own reasoning was realistic.

“All the boats at once?” was Lev’s retort. “Where are the Rattlers? There should be some patrols.”

They checked three more docks before finally finding a serviceable boat the following morning at Dana Point—some place in south LA. Abby carted their heaviest supplies down to the skiff, and Al and Ellie strapped it down.

Lev filled the outboard motor fuel tank. Then he glanced over Ellie’s shoulder and nodded up the docks. He gave a soft whistle that grabbed Abby’s sharp attention. “Rattlers.”

Ellie climbed onto the dock to flank Abby as Abby set down her burden and turned. Though everyone but Ellie wore Firefly patches on their jackets, Ellie couldn’t see the Rattlers holding true to a truce with anyone.

“Hey! We’re Fireflies,” Abby called out, raising her empty hands.

The Rattlers continued towards them, but they didn’t reach for their weapons. Ellie rested her hand on her revolver, studying the pair. The Rattlers stopped ten feet away, and the Rattler woman grinned wide enough to show rotten teeth. Crack or meth, Ellie pondered, remembering the shitty slideshow she’d sat through in military prep. The male of the pair was half the age of his partner. He carried a baton; the woman had a revolver.

Upon closer inspection, these two looked like they’d been through hell. Infection run in or tough couple of prisoners? If it was the latter, hopefully the prisoners had escaped.

“Well, fuck me,” the Rattler woman said. “It’s Abby the Ox.”

Abby flinched visibly at the name, and she wasn’t prepared when the Rattler woman pulled her weapon. Ellie was; she shot her dead. When the man screamed and staggered forward to swing at Ellie, Abby caught the baton in her hand and threw him to the dock. Her boot caught the back of his head. It was a horrific angle; his mouth was caught on the ledge of the dock, and his skull and spine crunched with the impact.

“Gross,” Ellie muttered, toeing the man’s body into the water gingerly.

“Why would they attack us?” Lev murmured, holstering his weapon.

Ellie bent over to relieve the woman of a few revolver rounds. She didn’t have much else on her. Ellie glanced up at Abby, whose gaze was caught and uncertain.

“Let’s get to the island. Come on.”

* * *

The heavy fog that descended on the coast of southern California had mostly burned off by the time their skiff reached the island. A column of black smoke rose from the southeast tip of the island, and the sight of it made them shift positions within the skiff. Lev took over piloting the boat, making a wider loop around Avalon than they’d previously planned.

Ellie crouched over the bow with her rifle scope. She shook her head when she saw the graffiti on the side of the big white building at the corner of Avalon’s bay. She passed over the scope wordlessly and didn’t have to look to know Abby’s heart had dropped too.

“Oh fuck,” she gasped.

The Rattlers were like fucking cockroaches, crawling their way everywhere and tainting everything they touched.

“What’s the plan?” Ellie asked.

Abby glanced back at Lev. “Pebbly Beach?”

He nodded, worry sharpening his features.

It took another half hour to navigate the shoreline and currents to get the skiff settled behind a large building that blocked the beach from view of the higher shoreline. In contrast to Abby’s simmering rage when she’d seen the Rattlers in Jackson, she brooded quietly and offered no reassurances.

Ellie knew what they would be doing. She surprised herself. She would have expected to fall into Al’s camp of reluctance, but despite everything that told Ellie she shouldn’t risk herself for this, she carried no hesitation.

Fuck the Rattlers. If they stood between her and the world getting a cure, she’d just go through them again.

They unloaded their supplies onto the beach, but no one had much of anything to say. Lev led them up to the highest rise southeast of Avalon to scout. If the Rattlers had populated Jackson, they’d goddamn swarmed Avalon. There had to be a hundred or more of them, clustered in groups around bonfires, buildings, and tables outfitted with spreads of food. Many were armed and armored.

“Fireflies,” Lev murmured, pointing inland of Avalon. Ellie glanced that way, towards a cluster of greenhouses and freshly plowed fields. The prisoners looked like they always did: backs bent in labor, sunburned, with their faces drawn in dehydration.

“Why are they here?”

“This is a planned takeover,” Abby murmured. “See the greenhouses they put up? They’re occupying the island.”

“Why?” Al murmured. No one had a guess.

They retreated back to the beach. Ellie waited for the plan, the logical next step, but Abby remained silent as she inventoried her weapons.

“So what’s next?” Ellie finally prompted.

Then Abby met her gaze almost aggressively and said, “What’s next is you go home.”

Ellie was startled by Abby’s vehemence. “There’s no fucking point to my immunity unless we figure out why.”

“Ellie, isn’t this a big enough sign for you that this wasn’t meant to be? Go home to your family.” Abby stood to her full height, looking down at Ellie. Despite her aggression, her expression wasn’t unkind.

“I can help!”

“Your family deserves better than you risking yourself for something that was a long shot anyway. You don’t owe the Fireflies anything. Go home.”

Abby was right. She was so fucking right Ellie wondered why she was fighting this. She looked among the group, but Abby was the only one who would meet her gaze. Ellie sighed in defeat.

“Can you get back to Dana Point?”

“Yeah.”

“Take the boat. Should be enough gas to get you back to shore.”

Abby walked Ellie out to the skiff, sloshing into the shallows after Ellie climbed aboard. Ellie studied her dark expression and knew what this was. Abby didn’t expect any of them to survive today. As much as Dina claimed Ellie was noble, she had nothing on this big brute of a woman.

Abby’s arms flexed as she turned the boat around in the shallow breakers. Ellie settled by the outboard engine and glanced back at Abby for the last time as Abby struck the boat with her fist. Abby’s smile was a grimace, but she met Ellie’s gaze steadily as if putting Ellie to memory.

Then Abby pushed at the boat and said, “Go.”

* * *

She and Joel had been watching a movie together in Jackson that first unhappy summer when Joel reacted strongly to a scene involving a kid getting hit by his father. His frown and fidget, the muttered ‘fucking bastard’ drew her attention from the movie.

Ellie didn’t see the big deal; that kind of thing was accepted in military prep. Long before Bradshaw busted her up, she’d taken slaps, swats, and on one weird occasion, spankings with a paddle. She made it through the movie before she felt compelled to ask, “Did you ever hit Sarah?”

Honestly, Ellie expected a classic Joel non-answer to confirm a ‘yes’ so she was surprised at his uncharacteristic vehement, “No!”

Then Joel had looked at her in realization. “Someone abused you in Boston?”

Ellie shrugged at that uncomfortable term. What actually constituted abuse? Getting hit more than once? “I had this guy FEDRA appointed as my guardian. We had to meet every week, you know, and talk about my fuck ups.”

“Why’d he hurt you?”

“I called him a not so nice name. After he punched my face in, he told me, ‘I’m not your fucking daddy.’”

Joel cleared his throat and looked away from her searching gaze. She knew he was thinking of the moment in that abandoned ranch too. His jaw worked. “You…gotta let it go, Ellie.”

For the first time since Salt Lake City, Joel disappointed her. The gnawing uncertainty of what had taken place in that hospital made her flinch and look away. Then he dropped that heavy hand on the back of her neck and squeezed gently. It should have been a threatening gesture, but Ellie relaxed into the touch. She looked up to meet his gaze, and he gave her a so rare smile.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

Old joke, pointing out the twenty yards between his back door and her home. He hadn’t even had to ask her if she wanted this living situation, even if he’d suggested just once, his voice barely shaking with nerves, “I got plenty of room in the main house—”

She didn’t like to think of how her denial had hurt him. Now, standing on her doorstep, Joel folded her into a rare hug and murmured, “Goodnight, baby girl.”

It took her until now, sitting on the goddamn boat on her way home to realize that had been an apology, given in the only language Joel knew.

She used to look up to every part of him: his withdrawals, his shortness, his belief that any discussion of emotions was weakness. Just because Ellie had come to understand what Joel didn’t say didn’t mean his way was right. Joel had hurt her far worse than Bradshaw with nearly the same words, tearing her heart out and stomping on it. Even understanding why he’d said what he did to her, Ellie knew she could never in any circumstance tell JJ she didn’t love him. And if she ever did, she’d fucking tell him she was sorry if confronted by it.

Maybe it was just another irrevocable difference between Ellie and the man she’d glorified.

Ellie still remembered her boast in Seattle that she could get the truth out of anyone with some time and her knife. She looked back on that moment now and only saw how fucking inexperienced she’d been. She hadn’t realized how much more personal that kind of death was than the brutal tit-for-tat of a battle. It was distinction she hadn’t seen until she’d been elbow deep in Nora’s blood.

Joel had always talked about it in a way that seemed so…sterile. Ellie had looked up to that, assumed she’d be the same. She’d been through so much shit, what could someone else’s pain actually mean to her? But she hadn’t been able to separate their experiences from her own, not outside the lightning speed of combat.

It wasn’t until she hit rock bottom after abandoning her family that she’d understood Joel’s pragmatic violence. She’d been too depressed to feel anything but her own pain. She’d made no promises, no threats, only mowed through the people she’d needed to get to Abby so she could do the same to her.

And even after finding that dark place she needed inside to be Joel, she still hadn’t been able to kill Abby. Because Joel wouldn’t have been on that fucking beach in the first place. He would have stayed with his family and let everything else go.

It had been the perfect storm of a situation to hammer home that if Ellie did this, she would never be worth anything to anyone. As Abby had said, she would have been a piece of shit, unforgivable, incapable of redemption or forgiveness. What justice was it to kill a woman who’d already been tortured and starved, who only wanted to get a kid out of there alive?

It wouldn’t cure Ellie’s horrors; the memory would just be another on the list of her nightmares. It certainly wouldn’t justify her actions to her family.

Ellie still struggled with her self-perception, with accepting her faults and all the ways she didn’t live up to what she hoped to be, just like she struggled to accept all of Joel’s good with his bad. Dina had a way of making it seem easy, to focus on the good memories without ignoring all the lessons she’d learned from the bad ones too. As strong and clever as Talia had been and as much as Talia had loved Dina, she left more than a few emotional scars in those last years together. As with Joel: who had loved Ellie and had taken care of her and been a role model for all the wrong ways to be.

It was hard to parse, even after Ellie realized she didn’t want to accept anything that might justify Joel’s death. Maybe she’d put him on a pedestal because of how he died. But even his violent, unjust death didn’t undo all of Joel’s selfish actions. He had killed Abby’s father and Marlene, disbanded the Fireflies, and lied to Ellie because he couldn’t accept her death or estrangement, in large part if not entirely because he didn’t want to lose her. But in that same action, he’d saved her, he’d loved her, and he’d been a father to her when no one else would. She loved him and still missed him so much.

It didn’t take much examination to know what Joel would tell her to do right now. The hard part was the rising doubt that the good part of Joel informed that answer. Or if this was one of the ways they were irrevocably different.

This was the right thing. Wasn’t it?

Ellie posted as the skiff skipped off the gentle swells of the Pacific. The gloom of the morning had completely burned off; there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The ocean smelled beautiful, and the day was bright and clear. She was going home.

Why the fuck didn’t she feel better?

She didn’t owe Abby anything. She sure as fuck didn’t owe the Fireflies. Abby told her to leave. Abby had murdered Joel, beaten him to death with a fucking golf club.

But Joel had murdered Abby’s father because he was trying to save the world. Whether the cure would have been successful was inconsequential—to Ellie, to Joel, to Abby. Even now, days and many miles removed, Ellie could hear Abby’s dry answer to the question if the cure had ever played a part in Joel’s death.

_“Nope.”_

She’d thought immediately that despite her body’s reaction, it didn’t fucking matter. Now, with tears rising in her eyes from the sharpness of the cool ocean wind, Ellie realized that it did matter. It mattered in how she viewed Abby.

Was Abby justified? No. No more than Ellie had been. But fuck, did Ellie understand her rage better. Past the bitter observation that Abby had done to Ellie what Joel did to her, Ellie realized the world had thrown two of the most self-conceited dumbasses at each other.

Yet somehow they’d both emerged from the other side sparing each other.

Fuck it. Not just sparing each other. Liking each other.

No matter how either one of them felt about it, they were irrevocably linked.

She looked back over her shoulder, but the island was out of sight. Too late. Too far. She’d be out of gas and stranded if she turned back now. Like Abby said, what other sign did Ellie need to know this was the right move?

By the time she sputtered into Dana Point, Ellie felt the stirrings of a panic attack. Darkness hovered over her shoulder, whispering that doom was coming no matter what, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her skin hurt, and her brain rolled and itched. She spat over the dockside, trying to clear the iron from her mouth.

When she climbed into the truck, she wasn’t sure she could handle the close interior.

She turned the ignition and jumped when the radio sprang to life; Abby’s voice was distorted but distinct.

_“Mayday mayday mayday. Calling FEDRA. This is Firefly Abby Anderson transmitting from Catalina Island. The Fireflies are requesting immediate military aid. Rattlers have attacked and captured our settlement of civilians.”_

Ellie’s hand shook as it hovered over the radio. She closed her fist and opened it again. They were fucked on the island. She could hear it in Abby’s voice. But Ellie had known this would be the result when she left.

_“If you’re out there, FEDRA, we have the key to CBI immunity. We have an immune individual on Catalina Island. Requesting immediate military—”_

The signal cut out, leaving only static.

Ellie shut off the radio and sat in silence.

Dina would tell her to come home. JJ would be so happy to see her. Joel… Joel would tell her the right thing to do would be to leave. He’d tell her to go back to her family and to fulfill her duty to protect them. To protect the child she carried. To live the rest of her life for them and be content with not being the hero of her own story.

Ellie drew a long breath as her mind quieted. Her hands stilled. The ache that pulled at her skin eased.

She wasn’t Joel, was she? Seemed like as good a time as any to start being okay with that.


	13. Enemy of my enemy

Even before Lev said his piece, Abby knew there was no changing their path back to Catalina Island. If Alyssa and Ellie were set on saving the shit world, Lev was right when he pronounced, “We need to go with them.”

So despite her dread of a future of mediocre existence with the Fireflies, Abby agreed. She prepared herself for petty politics, Yasmin’s derision, Alyssa’s withdrawal, the suffocating lie about Miguel’s death, and everyone’s disappointment when the cure fell through. Abby even expected the Rattlers.

But, as tended to happen, her world took a fucked up turn even she couldn’t predict.

For all that Abby had resisted the thought of coming back, she knew there was no choice but this. She couldn’t walk away now, not with their friends in the Ratters’ chains. The only silver lining was that Ellie was free of her obligation. She could go home to her family and be happy without the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Wasn’t this the perfect illustration that there was no cure for evil? Humanity was fucked, infection or no.

Part of Abby ached to see her plans for sustainable living on the island coming to fruition under duress. Fuck Yasmin. Fuck the Rattlers. Fuck it all.

There was no way that the three of them could do more than get killed or captured, not against the Ratters’ forces. Even if they freed and armed the Fireflies, their group of civilians wouldn’t survive an attack against the battle-hardened Rattlers. The only option was escape. Abby needed Alyssa and Lev reasonably safe, but that meant she had to take that danger upon herself. She gave herself only a single moment to panic.

“So, here’s the plan. I’m gonna sneak into the town and set a fire to draw them off. You two get down there and free everyone you can.”

“How do we get off the island? We have to go back through town to get boats.”

She considered Lev’s objection. “Two Harbors.”

“It’s too far!”

“There were four trucks parked up by the golf course. Steal them, just like we did in Jackson. Avalon’s swarming, and the only other place Yasmin allowed anchored boats was Two Harbors.”

“Even if we get a few boats off the island, then what?” Lev asked, his tone recalcitrant.

“We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

“Abby.”

She ignored his disbelieving stare. “After I set the fire, I’ll grab a boat and meet you on the mainland. Should we meet in Ventura and skip up the coast? They won’t follow us far.”

“ _Abby._ ” Lev caught her gaze. His eyes filled with tears; Abby had to look away to keep her composure. Then, with a sigh, she pulled him into a tight hug. “Everything’s going to be okay. Just worry about getting yourselves out of here.”

It was clear from the way Lev held her that he didn’t believe her. Abby squeezed him, and he let her hold him close for the time she needed. Alyssa sank into her arms a moment later. Abby gave herself a few seconds to revel in the embrace. As they parted, she tapped Alyssa’s shoulder with her fist awkwardly. “Forgive yourself, okay? You’re an amazing person, and you deserve to be happy.”

Alyssa kissed her, firm and desperate. When they parted, Abby rested her forehead against Alyssa’s and soaked in the moment, breathing her scent with a sigh. She summoned a grin and looked between the two most important people in her life, committing them to memory. As Abby turned away, Lev caught her wrist. “Remember after Yara died? You told me, ‘We’re not dying on this island.’”

His gaze was steady as he said, “We’re not dying on this island.”

Abby looked in Lev’s eyes and felt the panic ease. She glanced inland, imaged the Rattlers and her path across Avalon, and firmed. “You’re right. See you on the mainland.”

* * *

Avalon was a warped shadow of the place she’d known for the last four years. The Rattlers had graffitied walls, stripped down fences, and erected a few ugly outlooks atop houses. The bonfire on the beach was fueled by dead.

When Abby found the makeshift infirmary, her heart dropped. The sounds and smells were familiar to her; she’d seen enough battles in Seattle to know this odor: excrement, blood, and suffering. Except when Abby risked a closer look, the people lying on cots were almost all marked by black graffiti themselves.

_The Rattlers_ were injured.

There was no way the Fireflies had put up enough fight to injure the two dozen in that tent. They didn’t post guards; their weapons were locked away; and there was no combat training. Abby barely got away with her few hand-to-hand courses that she disguised as workouts.

When she paused to rest below the docks and ponder how the fuck she was going to set a fire large enough to get the Rattlers’ attention, a paired patrol stopped to smoke over her position. One of them took a piss off the docks.

“I don’t know, man. Makes me nervous.”

“If FEDRA knew about this place, they’d’ve wiped it out years ago.”

“It’s not like the Fireflies were ever a threat. We just fucking strolled in. What the fuck were they even doing here?”

“Dude, FEDRA is not gonna just let the Fireflies hang. No, we’re safe. Fuck it; I’ll say it. It’s a blessing. We should’ve downsized years ago. I kept telling Rose, you know.”

“Here we go,” the other one muttered.

“Instead of taking everyone’s mother and uncle to feed, we should’ve absorbed ‘em to do work. I mean, that’s our motto right? Gotta work to eat.”

“Gotta _hunt_ to eat, dipshit. I just don’t get why we didn’t go back to Santa Barbara.”

“Fuck Santa Barbara.”

“Fuck you! My sister lives up there.”

“Well, if you’re right, she’s safer up there.”

“What I think is that asshole Tank got all those guns, saw a little FEDRA outpost, and unloaded on them for the hell of it. Then FEDRA got its panties in a twist and decided to push us out of LA. He gets to dick around in the mountains and meanwhile we’re fucked.”

“Given how stupid that guy was, yeah, he probably did.”

They chuckled and continued to smoke, muttering about the weather, the island’s water production—“Nifty set up in that old plant.”—and about how many bison they could take a week to keep the herd stable. As she waited for them to wander away, Abby reconsidered her options.

Enemy of my enemy?

Fuck it.

She set off for the Casino.

* * *

Lev had tried to teach her climbing skills during that quiet year they’d boated down the west coast, but he’d given up after a few failed attempts. Abby hadn’t taken the lessons themselves seriously, but Lev’s words had the tendency to stick with her.

“Think of it like a checklist.”

“Of ways to die?”

Lev had laughed at Abby’s response. “Don’t think of the possibility of failure. Just think of all the steps you need to do it right. ‘Confidence and perfection spring from repetition.’”

“Ah, but only perfect practice makes perfect.”

“That’s surprisingly wise,” was Lev’s smartass reply.

A month later, they’d been captured by the Rattlers, and she put Lev’s advice into practice. She’d studied the Rattlers’ guard schedule, their weapons, their patrol routes, and the line of fence that would be easiest to scale. For weeks, she’d rehearsed their escape in her head only for a new dog to fuck them over.

And then they were stretched on the pillars.

Abby still dreamed of those days. They were the longest hours of her life, and the worst part of it was knowing she’d dragged Lev into it: Santa Barbara, the Rattlers, that fucked up escape attempt. She’d been so desperate to get away that she’d cemented their escape only through death.

Lev stopped responding to her the morning of the second day, and all Abby could do was watch him die.

Then in that dank evening gloom, she’d thought the crunching footsteps approaching were part of the delirium that had descended. Still, she’d whispered out her plea, and her specter stopped beneath her feet and stared up at Abby with the same disbelief that shook Abby out of her delirium. It turned out their last hope was also the last person on earth Abby expected on that beach.

_Amicus meus, inimicus inimici mei._

It was a beautiful, clear-cut adage, but fuck it if real life was ever that easy.

Whatever had driven Ellie to seek her out all the way to that beach on Santa Barbara only pushed Ellie to cut Abby down and watch as Abby released Lev. By the time they got to the boats, Abby believed it was done.

Then Ellie choked out, “I can’t let you leave.”

Abby didn’t want it: to fight Ellie, to hurt her, to be hurt, to put Lev in that kind of danger. There was no goddamn plan, no checklist for this situation. Everything inside strained to leave because anywhere else was better than here, but fighting Ellie meant staying on that beach.

Now that Abby knew Ellie, she wondered if Ellie really would have killed Lev. At the time, she’d believed the threat of that blade on Lev’s neck wholeheartedly, but now… If Ellie threatened the same, Abby would call her bluff without hesitation.

Yet Ellie had killed Mel and Owen. She’d sneered and taunted in that theater. Strange how disconnected her memory of Ellie from Seattle was from the funny, family-devoted woman Abby knew now. Abby had enough self-awareness to acknowledge that her own rage had blinded her more than once too. That rage had driven her to track down a man she didn’t know and torture him to death, to kill him in front of a woman who loved him like a father.

Then Abby had the gall to ask for forgiveness.

Did Ellie look at Abby and see Joel? Did she still see Abby put a knife to her wife’s throat? Did she see Abby drowning beneath her on that Santa Barbara beach?

They’d been like two rabid mongrels, going for each other’s throats as if it were the only way to survive. Abby would have killed Ellie in a moment to escape the vendetta that followed her across the country more than once. She’d put it all behind her, but her past had dogged her all the way to the Ratters’ pillars, and that past wanted restitution. Abby had to fight for herself because that was the only way to save Lev.

Abby had been certain she would die with Ellie's hands over her throat. She hadn’t realized how close she’d come even after taking that first full gulp of air. She’d bitten Ellie less than an inch from an active infected bite. That, more than her aspiration pneumonia, hemothorax, malnutrition, and hypovolemia, should have killed her.

Yet she and Lev had made it to Catalina Island. They lived.

The bare fact was they wouldn’t have made it without Ellie. And Ellie, no matter what came before it, had shown Abby mercy when it counted.

_Amicus meus, inimicus inimici mei._

There was no cure for evil, but there was also no predicting what could come with a little faith in the goodness of the world.

* * *

The top floor of the northwest wing of the Casino housed the Fireflies’ radio. It was one of two fingers of building that jutted off the cylindrical theater frame. Abby had been up here multiple times; she’d even manned the radio for a few months before Yasmin stripped that responsibility from her.

She killed one Rattler quietly on the way up, but the radio room was empty. Given the strong lights, the solar panels powering the place were still functioning.

Abby barricaded the door. She leaned over the radio and flipped through the book of frequencies, smoothing her finger under the one marked FEDRA LISTEN ONLY. She listened for any noises within the building before flipping to the appropriate frequency.

She pressed the push-to-talk button.

“Mayday mayday mayday. Calling FEDRA.”

She waited for a reply.

“Mayday mayday mayday. Calling FEDRA. This is Firefly Abby Anderson transmitting from Avalon on Catalina Island.” She listed the latitude and longitude. “The Fireflies are requesting immediate military aid. Rattlers have invaded the island and captured our civilians. We have at least a dozen casualties.”

She lifted her fingers and listened, counting to ten. Was it even broadcasting? When no reply was given, she repeated her original message as quickly and clearly as she could. In the resulting silence, she thought of the cracked gasket on her mask, the knowledge of how close she’d put her teeth to Ellie’s infected bite wound, and Ellie’s description of the smell of spores. Not acrid. Meaty, sweet, sour.

Fuck it.

“If you’re out there, FEDRA, we have the key to CBI Immunity. We have an immune individual on Catalina Island. Requesting immediate military aid.”

The power went out.

“Shit!” Abby slammed her fist against the table. Her anger shifted to fear when she heard a thump against the door she’d barricaded—the Rattlers’ only entrance and her only exit.

Except… Abby looked at the window and let a shudder of terror work through her. Lev would ask her if it was better to be certain to die here or take the uncertain risk of death trying to escape.

“Guess you’re climbing, Abby.”

Abby removed a molotov from her bag, lit it, and tossed it at the barricade. The old carpeting accepted the fire even more readily than the chair against the door. When the fire hit the ceiling, the entire room seemed to ignite at once.

Despite the heat on her face, Abby took her time climbing out the window. She gave the ground the briefest glance and nearly puked as the world dropped away. It wasn’t a good time to remember she was eight stories up.

She pushed a breath hard from her belly and eased one, then two feet out onto a narrow ledge several feet below the window. The ledge ran the length of the wing and butted up against the ballroom’s balcony, which was her intended destination if she didn’t fall to her death first.

Abby panted like she was running a sprint, and her heart thumped heavy in her chest and head. As she shuffled to her left, she alternated between panic she would misplace her foot and the knowledge that if she looked down to check, vertigo would strike. Then she hit the first pilaster and spent a handful of seconds considering shuffling back to the burning room to choose her death there after all.

Abby closed her eyes, took two hard breaths, and studied the pilaster. “You can do this.”

She had more havoc to wreak to protect Lev and Alyssa. She was not going to die on this fucking ledge. That meant moving.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “Fuck. Fuck. Okay. Fear makes you stronger if you don’t shit yourself, Abby.”

Abby shifted her weight and turned her right foot sideways on the ledge as she reached with her left foot. The rough material of the pilaster gave her a decent handhold. She set her boot onto the concrete ledge, trying to ignore the fact the pilaster’s foothold was sloped. Her boot slipped, and she gasped, clutching the tiny vertical depressions in the brick with her fingers and thumb so hard her forearm shook. Then, cautiously, she found friction with her boot and swung her right foot onto the pilaster before moving her right hand to dig into the depressions in the brick.

She reminded herself of her firm grip on the wall, the fact she was as strong as she’d ever been, and her weekly grip-work. Abby blew out a couple more breaths and tensed to hold most of her weight with her right arm as she tucked the fingertips of her left hand into a deep crease in the brick on the wall. With her fingers tense and most of her weight on her arms, she moved her left foot onto the building ledge. One more shift of her right arm then of her right foot, and she was back on the narrow flat ledge.

She had two more of these fucking pilasters to navigate.

Whoever designed this building could fuck himself out of the grave and right back into it.

The fire must have spread to the hallway. As she inched below the second window, black smoke billowed thick enough to burn her eyes. She could hear the Rattlers yelling to get sand, water, a fucking fire extinguisher. Hopefully the smoke decreased the visibility of anyone who happened to look up. Getting shot up here would mean she died by falling too.

Maybe Rattlers were like Wolves.

The next two pilasters went slightly better than the first. As Lev liked to stress, having a routine and a plan was a good way to stay alive.

After that last sideways shuffle, the ledge widened dramatically. Abby scooted sideways around the textured building until she was able to leap over the metal banister onto the balcony of the round base of the building.

She was soaked through with sweat, her heart was galloping, and her forearms protested like she’d been deadlifting double overhand without straps all day. The minutes she’d spent shuffling on the side of the building felt like hours, but she’d made it.

Then—through the multitude of fully windowed double doors that surrounded the balcony—she noticed row after row of beds, packs, and tables in the old Casino ballroom and realized she’d just climbed into the goddamn Rattler den.

Maybe Abby should have just fallen to her death.

A Rattler shouted as she ran onto the balcony to get a look at the fire. All Abby could think was what would have happened if the woman had come out sooner. She shoved the Rattler over the ledge. Surprisingly, the woman didn’t scream.

A concerned call sounded within the ballroom. Abby hoped the light was right to disguise her movement as she ran clockwise along the balcony. She barely ducked out of the Ratter’s line of sight as he stepped onto the balcony. Then he looked over the railing and screamed, “Jen!”

He was experienced enough to assume a threat. He unholstered his pistol and jogged around the balcony towards Abby. He found his threat alright. He looked at her for a split second of surprise before her bullet ended his life.

“Stray! On the balcony!”

There was no cover out here other than the small sections of wall between the windowed doors. Abby sprinted another quarter of the balcony circumference. As she ran, she heard at least half a dozen raised voices in the ballroom.

The Rattler pair that attempted to flank her miscalculated, charging out well short of her position. Their backs were to her. The four Rattlers—the two that came from the other side—met beyond her sight and started yelling at each other.

Abby tossed her pipe bomb into the ballroom then charged back around the balcony as the explosion incited chaos inside. Two shotgun shells dropped all four Rattlers on the balcony, though one continued to scream as he lay dying.

She reloaded her shotgun and startled the Rattler that came through the door on her right with a shell to the face. Another Rattler followed on her heels and died the same way. Gunfire cracked through the windows, shattering glass on one side. The balcony railing pinged and snapped as bullets occasionally struck the metal banister.

Abby set aside her empty shotgun and flattened herself against the wall. She unholstered her pistol. She had to move before she was flanked.

Abby waited for a pause in the gunfire and lit her last molotov. Her blind toss into the ballroom resulted in several shrieks. Abby used the distraction to sprint back around the balcony. She surprised one Rattler on the balcony and shoved him over the railing, barely yanking her arm out of his grip as he fell. On the east side of the building, Abby looked around cover. There was a cluster of Rattlers ducked behind an overturned table, still facing Abby’s previous position.

She killed all but one before she ran out of ammo. Then, fuck it, she charged the last Rattler and disarmed him. After a few desperate grapples, he picked her off her feet and slammed her into the wall. Abby seized the back of his head in one hand and shoved her thumb into his eye with the other.

His cornea popped under pressure of her thumbnail. Blood and vitreous squirted on her hand as he shrieked and staggered away. She chased him down, hit him with a front kick that rolled him onto his back, and drove her heel into his face.

Time to regroup.

Abby sprinted out the exit and barricaded the door to the maintenance staircase with another group of Rattlers on her heels. As she listened to the thump and shout of Rattlers on the other side of the door, Abby reloaded her pistol and checked her pack. Nothing much left. She could try to escape, but…

She knew the Casino well enough to lead these shits around by their noses. She’d done this in Seattle, evading an increasingly frustrated group of Scars long enough for backup to arrive. She’d made an impression on Isaac that day.

Abby talked herself up mentally and went down two floors instead of ten. She tossed a bottle down the hallway and started the goose chase. Though Abby only picked a couple off in the process of leading them in circles, she frustrated them enough that there was more than one casualty from friendly fire.

The collapse of part of the building was her cue to get the fuck out, only in part because the Rattlers shouted to clear out. Abby’s next goal was working her way back inland to the golf course to confirm that Lev and Alyssa escaped with the Fireflies.

On the first floor, Abby slowed and listened to the Rattlers shout as they ran through the inland exit. She approached a north exit and cautiously pushed the door open. Nothing to her right, but as Abby turned to the left, she took a blow across her face that made her stumble.

Abby’s attacker shoved her onto her back. As the Rattler lunged at her, Abby wrapped her legs around the woman’s arm and neck, crossed her knee over her ankle, and flexed. The two Rattlers running to help started cackling. One asshole bent close to leer, “Get some pussy, Bella!”

Bella went limp in Abby’s grip, her fingertips loosening on Abby’s t-shirt.

Another Rattler charged in, and his boot struck Abby’s head. She was too stunned to fight back as they bound her arms. The Rattlers were shouting at each other, words that made little sense in the moment. Then one of them stood over her to say, “What the fuck do we do with this bitch?”

“Get Isabella to the clinic, dipshit. Graham, bring that one. Alive.”

* * *

Though they gagged and hooded her, Abby knew Avalon well enough to guess she was being dragged inland. Eventually, they shoved her to her feet and told her to march. She guessed they must be approaching Avalon’s borders.

When they shoved her to her knees, she could hear infected on their chains, rattling their restraints and snarling at the sight of the living. The only place in Avalon with metal fencing was the old hotel and its…

Fuck no.

Not the pool.

“Hey, Rose. Found an oldie. Wasn’t she one of yours a few years ago?”

All of Abby’s hope for her own life drained away, replaced by a flood of cold fear. An unsympathetic hand stripped off her hood, leaving Abby squinting as her eyes adjusted to the sun overhead. Rose pushed down her reflective glasses and offered a bemused smile, one that meant pain was on the way. “Well, fuck me. Abby the Ox. Where have you been hiding? I looked all over for you when we first got here.”

“She killed over a dozen of us in the Casino! It’s still on fire!”

Rose seemed bored with that information. She cupped Abby’s jaw delicately a moment before she dug her fingernails into Abby’s skin. “Let it burn.”

“But our supplies—”

“We can use theirs.”

“Fuck that! We could lose the whole island!” One Rattler gestured to his companions, and his group moved towards the Casino, shouting at other Rattlers to bring water and sand.

“We should just kill the bitch and be done with it.” Another Rattler pulled his pistol out, he lowered it when Rose raised a hand. Rose nodded to the man standing over Abby’s shoulder, and the hood went back on.

“We’ve had a shitty week,” Rose said lightly. “Seems like a great time for a pit fight.”

“Right now? We need to find out what she knows, if there are others—”

“She’ll be ready to talk after. Baby, there are over two hundred of us. Even if she brought a couple others, what are they gonna do? We have guards posted and the prisoners are locked down. Even if Jamis’s group wants to play firefighter, we’re safe. No one’s getting to us.”

“We lost so many in LA.”

“I don’t see how that relates to what we do with Abby here.”

“We should scourge her, stretch her, and let her rot.”

“We will…after she has her time in the pool.” Rose grabbed the back of Abby’s hood with a cruel twist to her braid. “Listen to her breathe. She’s not looking forward to this.”

Rose was right. Abby concentrated on controlling her ragged gasps. She attempted long, slow breaths, trying to oxygenate through the thin mask that suctioned to her nostrils with each inhalation.

This was her worst nightmare coming to life again.

She listened to the rattle of chains as infected were moved, the scrape of a table—for bets—and the sounds of the Rattlers as they took their spots around the dried pool. She experimentally pushed off one knee only to be struck in the back of the neck. The second blow fell against her right trap and provoked her muffled yelp.

The only silver lining here was that the more Rattlers gathered to watch her die, the less would be around the Fireflies. Wasn’t her main goal to be a good distraction? She told herself that dying in this pool was better than being in their chains again.

There had to be at least a dozen Rattlers clustered around them by the time someone shouted, “Bets? We using clickers today, boys and girls?!”

Voices rose and overlapped. They wagered food, fuel, and weapons. Then the wagers for time with Abby after her fight came, and she knew torture was in her near future. It was just a question of who was at the other end of the knife.

At least the hood hid her tears from Rose’s cruel attention.

They yanked off her boots and cut her out of her overshirt. Then one of them grabbed her braid, yanked it taut, and cut it off, raising a burning stripe of pain across her scalp.

“Winner gets this!” Rose shouted from behind her.

_Breathe._

They pressed a gun to the back of her head as they marched her to the pool. When they shoved her into it, she was shocked by the impact, certain in that frozen second that they’d crippled her by pushing her into the deep end. Instead she struck cement quickly, only hard enough to bruise her hands and produce jeers from the watching Rattlers.

She climbed to her feet and wrapped her left hand in the cloth of the restraint they’d loosened from around her wrists. There was enough light coming through her hood that she could see shadows when she faced the deep end. Blindfolded, she couldn’t differentiate between Rattler, slave, or infected, but touching the hood would earn a bullet.

Not knowing what was biting her was worse than being bitten.

At least the waiting was done. Abby bounced on her toes, shook out her arms, and reminded herself of what Lev had told her. She wouldn’t die to these assholes.

A roar built in the crowd, and metal music blared from the back corner of the pool. The noises nearly drowned out the sound of the released chain, but Abby spun to face the infected that they’d shoved into the deep end. Based on its lurching steps, it had been crippled by the fall.

She shuffled forward until her toes dug into the incline.

The crowd shouted again, disorienting her. She gasped and flinched when something slapped her ear. They’d let another one in from the shallow end. She elbowed the infected away from her neck in a rush of adrenaline. She backhanded it to separate it further, then shoved it down and tried to stomp on its neck. Instead, her heel struck concrete with bruising force. Jeers and laughter erupted in response to her misstep.

The contrast of the pale pool plaster against the dark infected was better when she faced the deep end. She turned, saw the vague outline of the lame infected stumbling towards her, and felled it with a charging punch. There was a shout for more bets.

The first infected lunged again, but she shoved it towards the deep end. It stumbled and rolled backward, but she could see its silhouette. Her heel crushed its throat.

“Clicker! Clicker!”

Abby shook her head and walked back through the shallow muck in the deep end of the pool, climbing to level ground. She took long breaths through her nose, desperate for oxygen. Her heartbeat thumped audibly in her ears, yet somehow she heard the clicker shriek.

“Not fair!” Something metal clattered into the pool beside her. Abby snatched up the hammer. Her benefactor was a Rattler that had bet on her surviving more infected. This was within the rules of a pit fight, but Abby knew better than to expect the weapon to last more than a few blows.

She was exhausted, breathing hard around the gag, the mask suffocating her with each inhalation. Still, she split the clicker’s head and the hammer in half with one swing; the gruesome sight provoked catcalls and shrill whistles.

Abby smelled it then: musk and fat and blood all in one, like rotten meaty fruit. Not acrid. Not actually unpleasant.

The crowd had gone quiet, but the music continued to blare with a shrieking guitar rift. Abby stilled and waited, sensing the shifting shapes of the silent crowd parting halfway down the pool.

Someone shot the pool wall beside her. They fired a few more times, close enough for her to feel the hot pass of the bullet and the sting of pool plaster on her skin. From across the pool, a clicker shrieked. When they let the next clicker go, it charged at the sound of the bullets impacting the pool.

Abby dodged the flailing clicker, seized its chain, and grabbed the back of its metal collar. With a groan of effort, she turned it around and shoved it at the second infected they thought they were releasing on her in surprise.

The second infected gave a human shriek and gurgle as the clicker tore into it. Not a clicker but a Rattler. His death provoked startled cries: fear, sorrow, or anger, Abby couldn’t guess. What the fuck did they expect?!

Abby yanked the clicker close to her body as a shield. It flailed against her grasp, trying to twist within the collar to get at the living thing behind it. Abby backed into the corner of the pool, knowing she was dead now. Fuck it. Being shot was infinitely better than being strung up on a pillar again.

She yanked off her hood just in time to look up into the barrel of a rifle. She didn’t have time to flinch; the Rattler holding it was already going limp. His body tumbled into the shallow dirty puddle in the deep end of the pool, landing with a wet crunch beside Abby and her captive infected.

She stared at the feathered arrow sticking out of his head.

Lev? Or…

Shouts rose from the crowd, and their surprise turned to horror when a corner of the pool exploded. Abby flinched behind the clicker. Half a dozen Rattlers were dead in an instant to some sort of bomb. Another explosion tore apart the crowd on the right side of the pool, but this time Abby saw the arrow that brought it. Then someone unloaded a full magazine of automatic rifle ammunition into those that remained standing.

Through it all, Abby held the clicker in front of her like a shield, her ears ringing in the sudden silence.

“Holy fuck!” one Rattler gasped as footsteps approached at a run, but he died under the flash of a machete.

Holy fuck was right.

It was Ellie who looked over the edge of the pool. She’d come back.

As Abby stared up at her in disbelief, Ellie peered down at Abby fearfully. Her entire form shifted in evident relief as she looked Abby up and down. Then she impatiently demanded, “Kill that thing and get the fuck up here!”

Abby jerked her attention back to the infected thrashing against her grip. She slammed it into the side of the pool like a ram, splitting its head in half with two blows. The gag was her next priority, but as she pulled the cloth away from her face, she paused.

There was a bite wound on the outside of her right hand.

She looked desperately for confirmation it had been a Rattler trick, but only one human was dead in the pool. She’d heard the crowd react to him climbing into the pool. He hadn’t touched her before the clicker tore his throat out.

It was the characteristic pattern of an infected bite: only the lower arcade fully penetrated except in early infection. The upper teeth were often too loose to do more than bruise, but the bleeding gums aided the transmission of the fungus. There was little possibility of her bite coming from anything but infected. That’s what logic told her.

Despite the same logic telling her that meant she was dead, calm descended immediately. Either her time was up or it wasn’t. All she could do was wait it out and do what good she could in the meantime.

Abby used the gag to wrap her hand and climbed out of the pool, taking a moment to appreciate the carnage that Ellie had just inflicted on the Rattlers. Mass dismemberment couldn’t have happened to a better group of assholes. She picked out an assault rifle from the splattered mess of offal and meat. She was surprised to hear Ellie retch, but Abby made no comment as she followed on Ellie’s heels. They cut behind the hotel to take a moment of respite from the Rattlers that would be sure to investigate either the explosions or the cessation of noise.

What a futile thing, coming back for her. A few years ago, Abby might have scoffed at the gesture, maybe even gotten pissed, but goddamn did it mean something to her. Abby couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“Hey.” When Ellie met her gaze, Abby said, “Thanks.”

Ellie’s smile flickered and faded. She had blood soaking her right forearm, but it didn’t seem to be hers. “Wasn’t right to leave. Where are the others?”

“Lev and Al went to free the Fireflies. They should be on their way to Two Harbors.” Abby concentrated on lacing her boots, ignoring the pain in her feet, her shoulder—her rotator cuff had been bothering her on and off for years—and her burning hand.

“Where’s that?”

“Way north. Where’s your boat?”

“Out of gas.”

“That’s okay.” Abby gestured towards the shore. “We can cut back through Avalon and steal a boat.”

Ellie glanced up the hill, checking her revolver absently. “I know you won’t leave without them so let’s not waste our time arguing.”

Abby met Ellie’s defiant stare and sighed. Strangely, she wasn’t surprised by Ellie’s ultimatum.

“Okay. This way.”

* * *

They’d quietly killed two Rattlers near the school when a group strode by in audible argument. “How’d you fucking lose them? It was a huge group!”

“Don’t bitch at me. I was trying to put out the fucking fire! How was I supposed to guess they’d have a key?”

“Not only did you let them escape, you let them steal all our trucks, you fucking idiots.” That was Rose’s voice. Abby had assumed she was part of the gore around the pool. No such luck.

“Yeah? What were you doing? Organizing a pit fight? And now she’s out with our entire fucking workforce.”

“It’s a fucking island,” was Rose’s tight reply. “The only other place they could be going is that harbor up north. I already sent Kal to grab a truck from the water plant. Let’s go.”

Ellie caught Abby’s attention. “Have any horses?”

“No horses. But we can take a cart up the footpath and save time.”

“A what?”

* * *

Eighteen miles later, Abby pulled the golf cart off the small trail just southeast of Two Harbors, which lay down the ridge about a thousand yards from their position. Abby felt dread build to see Lev and Alyssa helping Fireflies onto a small skiff crammed with people. Another larger fishing boat was churning slowly out of the harbor.

“Get out,” Abby hissed. “Get the fuck out.”

Instead, Lev and Alyssa remained with a handful of Fireflies that were stranded on the dock. They didn’t climb into the other docked skiff. A couple of Fireflies attempted to siphon fuel from one of the trucks. Shit, the last tank must be empty.

Ellie glanced at Abby, echoing her thoughts. “We should get down there—”

Then the sound of blaring rock music and the rumble of an engine came from down the road. Abby rolled to catch the flash of a truck tearing around the bend. Abby’s gut dropped. She thought they’d have more time before the Rattlers got here. She should have driven straight to the fucking dock.

She and Ellie moved at the same time for their golf cart. Abby stomped on the accelerator as they drove through the dust the truck had kicked up.

“Go much ammo?”

“No,” Ellie replied.

Abby handed Ellie her assault rifle. “Find cover; kill who you can. I’m going to sneak closer and buy us time.”

Ellie’s brow furrowed, but she offered a tense nod and climbed out of the cart with Abby, moving into the dense brush. Abby already guessed what she would see as she moved into Two Harbors; Rose was laying into Lev without mercy. Abby had a choice: kill a few Rattlers in stealth while Rose beat Lev to death or charge in to buy time for them all and hope Ellie pulled off a miracle.

It wasn’t a choice.

“Where did they fucking go?! Where the fuck is she?!” Rose was shouting over Lev, who was bloodied and bruised. She raised her rifle to strike him again.

“Stop! I’m here!”

One of the Rattlers gasped when he saw Abby. There were seven of them on the beach; their weapons were raised on the handful of Fireflies they’d captured. When Rose turned, her eyes widened; she looked Abby up and down. She nodded to her people, and four Rattlers peeled off to slip into the brush.

“Hell in a handbasket, Abby, are you fucking unkillable or what?”

“Let him go.”

Abby yelped when a Rattler struck her behind the knee with his rifle butt. She dropped to her knees, raised her hands, and offered no resistance as they patted her down.

“Why would I do that?” Rose asked.

“Because you want me.”

“Not a very convincing argument because it looks like I fucking have you.”

Abby’s gut dropped to see Rattlers fueling up the skiff on the dock. She wished she didn’t sound so desperate. “I know all our resources on the island. Our reservoirs, the herd, how to run the desalination plant. That’s what you’ve always needed, isn’t it? Water. I’ll do it. I’ll be your goddamn slave. Just let them go.”

“Them?” Rose echoed. Her expression settled into one that meant evil was on its way. “Which ones?” She grabbed Lev by the hair and yanked his head up to shake him. Lev bared his teeth but remained silent. He was swollen and bruised, his nose and mouth bleeding. “I know about this one already, but who else?”

Abby clenched her jaw. Rose cocked her head. “What? I’m feeling generous. You can choose another.”

Naming Alyssa would kill her, and Abby had already killed Lev. Rose followed her gaze. “You?” she asked Jo, who was markedly thinner and had bruises all over his face. “Or you?” Rose crouched in front of Alyssa. “Pretty. You a dyke, Abby?”

Alyssa jerked her chin away from Rose’s touch, but Rose was only paying attention to Abby’s reaction. She grinned and nodded to another Rattler, who grabbed Alyssa and yanked her to the front of the group of Fireflies.

“Don’t!”

Rose ignored Yasmin’s protest; she tilted the pistol in her left hand. “Let’s have some fun. Choose one.”

As Abby looked between Lev and Alyssa, everything inside crashed to a stop. She couldn’t. She might as well put Rose’s gun to her own head. Tears burned her eyes. Even if she could say a name, the point of the game was that Abby didn’t know if she was choosing for death or life.

“Please, Rose.”

“Choose. Or I kill both of them.”

“Just kill me!”

“Do you remember that first week, Abby? Ten strikes with the whip, and not a peep. But then I hit the kid once, and suddenly you’re bawling at my feet, begging me to stop. Why would I—”

A scream shattered the quiet and pulled Rose’s attention away from her twisted game. There were a few more cries of pain, then a chorus of swears. Two Rattlers dragged Ellie around the corner of one of the buildings and threw her on the beach beside Abby. On the dock, two more Rattlers climbed into the skiff and started the engine.

Whatever hope Abby had left drained from her.

“It’s her! It’s the fucking bitch from Santa Barbara,” the woman gasped. Her partner gestured with his gun. “She just killed Wynn and Angel!”

“Shoot the woman if Abby moves,” Rose murmured absently. She approached Ellie, crouching well out of reach. For the first time since Abby had known Rose, she looked rattled. Ellie stared back at her defiantly.

“I’m more surprised Tank was right about her being alive than the fact they somehow fucked up killing her.” Rose looked between Abby and Ellie, her eyes wide with ill intent. “You escaped when she blew through, didn’t you?”

Abby looked away, but Rose had always been able to read her. She addressed Ellie with contempt. “You killed how many of us for _her_?”

Of course Ellie couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She sneered, “Killing you fucks was just bonus.”

Abby was terrified of the quiet energy that folded over Rose. “Okay.” She strode back to the Fireflies, yanked Lev aside, and pressed her pistol to Lev’s head, earning Abby’s flinch. “You want to earn your keep, Abby? Kill the tattooed bitch. Or I kill him.”

When Abby didn’t rise, Rose grabbed Lev’s hair and pushed harder. “Now!”

“It’s okay, Abby,” Lev said.

“No,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears. How had she fucked this up so badly?

Rose turned her gun and fired into the sand. Lev flinched silently. Abby trembled, her dread turning her gut over in a rush of nausea. Several Fireflies screamed, and someone within the group was crying. Even if Abby could kill Ellie for Lev, but she wouldn’t do it knowing Rose would shoot Lev no matter what happened in the next few minutes.

Then Ellie spoke. “Come on, Abby.”

Ellie climbed to her feet, reached into her back pocket, and flicked open her switchblade. The sight of the knife drew a cry of alarm from one Rattler, but Rose waved away his concern impatiently. Ellie shifted on her feet, light and easy. “Come on.”

“I don’t want this. I won’t—”

Ellie lunged at her. Abby couldn’t suppress her cry of pain as Ellie opened the skin of her left forearm. The Rattlers hooted in delight, but all Abby could do was stare at the gash in her skin in disbelief.

When Ellie lunged at her again, Abby flinched away. Her disbelief turned to Ellie, but Ellie looked back at her defiantly.

“Fight back! Kill her!” Rose screamed.

When Ellie came at her the next time, Abby believed the threat of that blade. She seized Ellie’s forearm to shove her away. Ellie sneered, “Take it!”

Abby stumbled and dodged another two blows before she understood. Aside from Rose, there were four other Rattlers on that beach. This could work if they timed it right. Abby set her jaw and firmed. Her fist caught Ellie’s cheek, and Ellie shook her head as she backed away.

“Stay back!” Rose shouted as their fight moved them closer to her position.

Abby flinched aside as Ellie lunged at her. During Ellie’s next strike, she turned her wrist awkwardly, and Abby closed her hand around the handle and Ellie’s surprisingly loose grip. She seized the knife, shoved Ellie down into the sand, and lunged for Rose.

Abby would forever remember the look of terror on Rose’s face as she raised her gun in reflex. Lev shoved Rose’s arm from below as she fired. The bullet was a hot, wet slap, but with Abby’s momentum, there was only one result. She cut Rose’s throat.

Several Ratters cried out in alarm. Abby scrambled to cover Lev, who had Rose’s pistol and put a bullet in the closest Rattler before he could shoot. Another gunshot cracked the air; Abby shoved Lev into the sand under her. Below her, Rose gagged and shook as she died.

Abby and Lev flinched at the crack of another bullet. She was desperate to know where the threat originated. As she looked, Lev jerked his pistol to the next Rattler, and like a fucked up magic trick, the Rattler he turned to exploded with an ear-splitting crack of a large caliber bullet.

“Sniper!” Abby gasped.

“No shit,” was Lev’s shaky reply.

Ellie and Alyssa lay tangled in the sand, but they both looked up, apparently unharmed. The Fireflies were huddled together with Jo and Cain shielding the group, but Abby didn’t hear any indications of injury. The last Rattler met Abby’s gaze and turned to run. His head exploded.

Silence descended. Abby exchanged a shocked look with Lev, who still lay tangled below her. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he gasped. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Al? Ellie?”

“I’m okay,” was Alyssa’s wide-eyed reply. Ellie scrambled across the sand and gravel to retrieve her revolver off a Rattler corpse, and now she held it in both hands, her wild gaze darting and erratic. She was the only person on the beach standing.

Abby looked to the handful of Fireflies clustered together. “Is anyone hurt?”

“We’re okay,” said Tamsin, the oldest Firefly on the island. Her fear had settled into resignation, but Yasmin stared at Abby in horror. “What did you do?”

Abby understood abruptly. She could see the military vessels speeding into the bay and the soldiers moving down the ridge towards their corner of the beach. From the distance came an overwhelming noise she had never heard outside a movie: the whirring thump of a helicopter.

Only one organization in this region would have access to that kind of machinery and this caliber of soldiers. Given the wild look on Ellie’s face, her white-knuckled grip on her gun, and the shaking gasps that wracked her body, Ellie knew too.

Abby approached Ellie cautiously, eying the revolver in her hands. “Ellie?”

“I can’t go back.”

“Give me your gun, Ellie.”

Ellie shook her head, her wild gaze moving from the helicopter that hovered over the rise to the soldiers that were advancing on them. “I can’t go back. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

The first line of soldiers hit the beach, and one of them barked, “Drop your weapon! Drop it now!”

Carefully, Abby reached out to close her hand over Ellie’s shoulder, drawing her stare. She tried not to show her own fear. “I won’t let them take you. I swear it. Trust me. Please, Ellie.”

Ellie blinked, and several tears slipped down her cheeks. Her gaze fixed on Abby’s, and as Abby watched, Ellie’s focus returned. She gulped a few breaths and pressed her gun into Abby’s palm. Abby tossed the revolver to the ground, turned, and raised her hands.

“Don’t shoot!” she shouted. “We’re Fireflies! Don’t shoot!”

As a team of masked FEDRA soldiers surrounded them, Abby hoped she hadn’t made an empty promise.

* * *

A few hours later, Abby felt marginally better about their situation. Their wrists had been ziptied—aside from good ‘ole badass Cain, whose arm had been broken in the fight by the docks—and the soldiers distributed water and food and doctored a few injuries while they waited.

Ellie sat against Abby’s back, leaning into her as if absorbing her strength. The physical contact gave Abby comfort too, especially as she watched the other Fireflies loaded into a truck and driven away.

Abby caught the attention of one of the soldiers. “Where are you taking them?”

“Avalon.”

“Are we not going with them?”

He shrugged. “Waiting on fuel for another truck. Sit tight. Shouldn’t be long.”

It could be a lie, but she was too tired to do more than obey. Abby pondered the mild ache in her hand and her mental state, but nothing had changed since that afternoon. Her bite hurt less than the bullet graze on her shoulder.

Maybe they were fucked, and maybe Ellie regretted coming back, but Abby could still be grateful. She wished she could put the overwhelming emotion into words.

“I was in a helicopter once,” Ellie volunteered abruptly. Abby looked at the helicopter that had circled back on another sweep of the island.

“Did you fly in it?”

“Almost. It’d crashed into a mall. I had to jump into it to get medical supplies, and the piece of shit nearly fell another twenty feet.”

“Fuck medical supplies. Was it cool? I’ve never even seen one. Other than that one, I mean.”

“Would’ve been cooler if I didn’t have cannibals and infected trying to kill me.”

“Fuck cannibals too.”

“Amen.”

A truck pulled up with a couple soldiers in the bed. The man who had been guarding them said, “Ladies, time to move. No funny business.”

“Knock, knock,” Ellie said dryly. When the soldier didn’t smile, Ellie muttered, “Tough crowd.”

Something had changed in Ellie after that last fight, and whatever it was apparently sapped her fear.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Avalon.” He said it like Abby was stupid, drawing Ellie’s muttered, “Dick.”

They were ziptied to each other and had to shuffle awkwardly to the truck parked on the road. The fact they’d earned three Enforcer guards made Abby uneasy. She had to assume FEDRA knew who they were.

It took an hour to reach Avalon. In that time, Ellie fell asleep against Abby’s shoulder. As they rounded the western edge of the city, the incline allowed a clear view of the docks and the floodlights shining on the military vessels docked in the bay. From what Abby could see in the falling darkness, the Casino was a smoldering ruin. So much for that piece of history.

The truck rolled to a stop, and a man climbed in the bed with them. Ellie started awake as the soldiers in the truck bed saluted. While Abby could appreciate order in the ranks, it was an odd time to stand on formality. Isaac always said that people who commanded respect didn’t require salutes.

He had to be a decade or two older than Abby. Abby wasn’t familiar with FEDRA ranks, but the number of stars on his uniform indicated he was a high-ranking officer.

“Abigail Anderson?”

“Call me Abby.”

“Abby. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Escobar Acosta.” In the wake of her silence, he said, “You may have heard of my father, Renan Acosta.”

“Doctor Acosta?” She was surprised by that whisper of the past. Her father had talked about Dr. Acosta whenever he approached a medical problem he had trouble solving. Abby hadn’t realized the man was still with FEDRA, but she had hardly acknowledged her own father had been.

“One and the same.” Abby accepted Escobar’s hand after they cut her bindings; his firm squeeze reminded her of the wound on her right hand. Escobar’s gaze lingered on Ellie’s tattoo.

“Where are the Fireflies?”

“We set up an infirmary in the school gym.”

“And the people on the docks?” Ellie asked. Abby squinted, barely making out the line of prisoners shuffling onto FEDRA’s boat.

“Rattlers.”

Good fucking riddance.

When they got to the school, Abby was out of the truck before it fully stopped. She strode to the open gym doors and deflated in relief to see the sheer number of Fireflies inside, though that indicated FEDRA had picked up more than the Fireflies escaping the island. They were unbound, and the soldiers in the edge of the room seemed more interested in handing out supplies than policing.

Lev was in her arms in an uncharacteristic hug before she even saw him. Abby swallowed tears of relief and folded him close. Then she pushed him back enough to study his bruised and swollen face. “You look awful.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” he retorted with a grin.

“Where’s Al?”

“The clinic, taking care of Cain and Liz. She’s worried about you.”

Escobar intruded by stepping into Abby’s line of sight. She looked at him, at Ellie beside him, and abruptly remembered the bite on her hand. Escobar disguised his command with the question, “Care for a walk? We won’t go far.”

“Stay here,” Abby told Ellie and Lev. She didn’t wait for a response, but she also didn’t miss their exchanged looks.

Abby and Escobar retreated just across the street, far enough away that their words didn’t carry. Escobar looked her over again. “I was curious when I got your transmission. My father still speaks of Dr. Anderson highly.”

“Despite his defection.”

“Because of it. Tell me, is Ellie aware you bartered her freedom for the Fireflies?”

“I wasn’t bartering her freedom.”

That drew a frown. “I don’t have the patience for games—”

“I’m not playing games. I just need a couple of days.” Abby raised her hand. “I got bit earlier today. I need about…forty-three hours to clear quarantine.”

“Can I see it?”

Abby unwrapped her hand. The doubt all over Escobar’s face didn’t bode well for her negotiation power. “Looks like a normal bite.”

“Scan me.”

He shot her another look before calling over one of his men. The scanner in his hand was smaller than Abby remembered, but she hadn’t been paying attention in SFQZ. When he pressed it to her neck, the light sting of the needle didn’t register. Escobar’s reflexive gasp cemented her reality. She was infected, immune or not.

“I should kill you.”

“You really want to take that chance?”

“Why do you think you’re immune?”

“Lived through breathing spores a couple weeks ago.”

“Two days,” Escobar repeated, though he didn’t hide his doubt. He surreptitiously checked his right hand for blood, but by his mild chagrin, he knew she’d caught him.

“Then I name my terms.”

“What could you possibly barter?” Escobar read the intent on her face, and his smile shifted into a grimace of irritation. “Make it through quarantine, and we’ll talk.”

“Until then, I want the assurance that Ellie stays here and the Fireflies won’t be mistreated or shipped out like them.” She jerked her chin towards the docks.

“Ellie stays here. The Fireflies won’t be mistreated or moved. You have my word and my QZ leader’s assurance.”

“Do we have to worry about SFQZ dropping in?”

“No.” He studied her. “I’d suggest letting your people know not to cause any trouble. That includes those of you hiding in the hills.”

She winced. Yasmin wasn’t going to be particularly happy about any of this. “I don’t run things around here.”

“Well, Abby, it’s safe to say you do now.”

As Abby looked back towards the scared, exhausted Fireflies in that gym, she realized that maybe it was as simple as that. How was this any different than all other the times she’d stepped up and taken charge in the last few weeks?

When she was escorted back to the gym, Abby offered a quick nod of reassurance to Lev and Ellie. She read their concern as easily as she read it on the faces of the other Fireflies. Silence fell as all eyes turned to her. Escobar walking in on her heels probably didn’t help.

Abby exhaled her nerves with a murmured, “Shit.” Abruptly exhausted, Abby sank down into a free chair and rested her elbows on her knees. Public speaking was not her thing.

“So… I called FEDRA here.”

A murmur of surprise swept the room.

“Traitor!” was Yasmin’s predictable exclamation. Abby had to give her two things. One, she was consistent. Two, she hadn’t escaped Two Harbors while other Fireflies were still on the island.

“What else could I have done, Yasmin?”

“We all know how terrified you are of the Rattlers. So you brought FEDRA here—”

Ellie’s abrupt laughter drew everyone’s attention. “Are you fucking stupid?” Her derision was both validating and unwelcome, but it said something that Lev didn’t interject.

“Who are you again?” Yasmin snapped.

“I’m none of your goddamn business, shit for brains.”

Yasmin’s eyes widened as she finally put it together. She opened her mouth, and Abby knew whatever she had to say wasn’t welcome. She stepped between Yasmin and Ellie to growl, “Don’t.”

“This is your fault, Abby!”

“Who armed the Rattlers, Yasmin?”

Abby wasn’t sure if the silence that descended after her words was damning for Yasmin or for herself. Yasmin hesitated, turned a wide-eyed look around the still room, and gave a tense, fearful smile. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I climbed outside the top floor of the Casino, faced over a dozen Rattlers at once, survived the pool, and you saw what happened on that beach. It’s been a pretty fucking awful day. Unless you have something helpful to say, sit the fuck down.”

To Abby’s surprise, Yasmin slowly sank back the floor. Abby released a slow breath as she pushed her anger away. She raised her voice. “I’m not a fan of FEDRA either, but we have the chance to negotiate something out of this. ‘The highest heights rise from the lowest lows.’ The Rattlers were our low. We can heal from this. You just have to trust me.”

She read their doubt, and her words failed her. Yasmin opened her mouth, but Tamsin silenced her with a touch to her shoulder. She didn’t have to stand to gain everyone’s attention.

“The Fireflies can’t help the world if we’re dead. Abigail, Lev, and Alyssa fought for us today. I don’t like that this was our only option, but I’m willing to follow their lead. Let’s do what we can with what we’ve been given. Do we even need to waste our time with a vote?”

A quiet murmur of ‘no’s rose. And that was that.

Escobar raised a hand from the open gym door. Abby wearily climbed to her feet to follow him into the cool night. When Lev caught her gaze, Abby waved him off.

He asked her, “Where’s a good place for quarantine?”

* * *

“What’s going on?” Alyssa asked as she and Lev entered Avalon’s old jail. While Abby would rather stay in the clinic’s relative comfort, she figured the Fireflies and FEDRA would need to use the building. At least Escobar allowed her visitors. It was a crushing relief to confirm for herself that Alyssa was okay. 

“I’m infected.”

Alyssa swayed, and Lev caught her arm to steady her. They both looked at Abby like she’d just slapped them.

“No. But Yasmin—”

“Yasmin can go fuck herself. If you get back with her, we will be irreparably done.”

“I’m not… Abby…” Alyssa approached the cell’s bars. “When?”

“About…five or six hours ago? I’ll be fine. My mask broke in the BART tunnel so I would have turned weeks ago if I could.” Abby judged their horrified expressions. She lowered her voice. Even if Escobar knew who Ellie was, her guards might not. “I think Ellie gave me her immunity.”

“Are you sure it’s an infected bite?” Lev asked. “They tricked you before—”

“I scan positive.”

“Oh, my God,” Alyssa murmured, resting her cheek against the cell bars. “I wasted all that time…”

“Was it a waste?” Abby had gained some of Ellie’s bravado in the last hour. “Doesn’t feel like it to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty damn sure, Lev. If I’m wrong, well, I’ll go out thinking I’m going to save the world. Do me a favor and get Ellie out of here if I do turn. Think you can persuade a few of our gym buddies to shadow her?”

Lev studied her silently, but whatever he saw on her face made him nod and turn away. Then he turned back curiously. “Did you really climb outside the Casino?”

“From the radio room to the ballroom.”

His grin was slow. He reached between the bars, and Abby bumped his fist with her own. “Climbing, quoting the Prophet…”

“I knew you’d get a kick out of that. You know what this means, right?”

“You’re over your fear of heights?”

“Fuck no. I nearly shit my pants. We’re adopting a dog, Lev.”

He pulled his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “A small dog.”

Talk about lowest low becoming a high point. “Really?! Fuck yeah!”

Lev sketched a salute as he walked out the door.

“Hey, Lev?”

He paused. Abby considered his composure through all the shit the world had heaped on them that day, all that he’d done for her and for the Fireflies, and his steady, unwavering support. She was so proud of him. “You did good today. Go ice that face, okay?”

Abby should have predicted that would earn an eye-roll.

In contrast to Lev, Alyssa’s expression was drawn in sorrow. She fumbled for the bench behind her and sank into it, cupping her hands over her face. “I’m such a fucking idiot. God, why do I have to realize it now?”

“Al? Talk to me. Please.”

Alyssa wiped at her tears unsuccessfully, offering a tense, unhappy smile. “And now it’s too late.”

Abby stepped up to the bars, hope rising for this too. “Does that mean when I make it out of here, we can give it a try?”

“That’s what you want to know?”

Abby felt the pull of disappointment and tried to deflect. “I get you’re not sure about this. For whatever reason. Maybe because this—” She waved a hand in front of her body. “—disgusts you. I _am_ pretty disgusting right now. Maybe it’s something else, but—”

“Abby, it’s not you. I—”

“If you say, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ I’m going to check myself out and walk up to that cliff.” Abby pointed north. “And I’m going to jump off it, cure be damned.” When Alyssa laughed through her tears, Abby couldn’t keep a straight face, though her smile faded as she judged Alyssa’s unabating sorrow.

Alyssa met her gaze and smiled sadly. “Abby, you’re so unwaveringly good. Everything I’ve ever seen you do has been for someone else’s happiness. People like you don’t exist anymore, not in this world.”

“Alyssa...”

“And maybe you weren’t once, but you are now. The Abby I know is the woman I love.”

“Then fucking love me!” Abby exclaimed. She ignored the stifled laugh from one of the guards, her entire focus on Alyssa.

“How can someone as good as you possibly love someone as fucked up as me and still be good? I kept telling myself I’d taint you, I’d fuck you up like I fucked up Tara, and… Then I thought if I had this chance to deliver the cure, maybe I could be the person you need.”

What the fuck? “Alyssa, all I want is you.”

Abby earned Alyssa’s contemplative look, then a fragile smile, and an even weaker, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Abby echoed.

“Walk out of quarantine, and I’ll see this through with you.”

Abby leaned back, digesting Alyssa’s affection on full display. Alyssa looked at Abby as if she needed nothing more, and Abby looked right back, studying Alyssa’s soft smile, the swelling on her right cheek, and the fact her glasses were taped together. As Alyssa had said, okay then. Maybe it should feel anti-climactic, but it wasn’t like a dramatic kiss was in the cards for today. Later, though…

“If I’d known getting infected was all I had to do to be your girlfriend, I would have tried it ages ago.”

Alyssa smiled a tense, tear-filled smile. She stood up and reached out to caress Abby's hand against the cell bar. When Alyssa leaned forward to kiss Abby’s knuckles, Abby’s entire body came to attention.

“I’m contrary by my nature. Abby… If you survive this, past us, what’s next?”

“Then… I guess we’d better get started figuring out why I’m immune and save the fucking world.”

* * *

She dreamed of Salt Lake City the second night in quarantine, but it wasn’t her usual nightmare. Instead, when she told her father she would take Ellie’s place, he took her up on it. Abby walked down that familiar hallway to lie down on the hospital bed in the surgery suite and watched Jerry—scrubbed, gowned, and gloved—rearrange his surgical instruments on his tray.

He’d always been habitual about it. Abby never watched his surgeries—at the time she’d been squeamish about gore—but she’d always loved his rituals: laying out his instruments, snapping the scalpel blade into the handle, counting his gauze, adjusting the cautery unit, clamping his suture needle in his needle drivers, draping in the patient, and arranging his suction unit on the drapes.

In her dream, he approached with a smile she could see beneath his mask, and as he laid the drape over her face, she knew he was going to kill her.

Abby gasped and blinked up at the ceiling of the jail cell. Despite the dread within the dream, it hadn’t been a nightmare. It did bring up a question she’d hardly had time to consider.

Why did renowned neurosurgeon and CBI researcher, Dr. Jerry Anderson, claim Ellie had to die for the cure? According to Alyssa, stereotactic brain biopsies were not uncommonly done long before Outbreak, and that since its establishment, the CBI lab in San Francisco had carried them out successfully. Not only was Abby’s father still considered a foremost expert in neurosurgery, he had also helped establish the FEDRA program that used the technique.

Abby had to accept that her father knew the technique. What she couldn’t accept was why he wouldn’t have chosen to use it.

She still remembered the FEDRA spy incident in Salt Lake City. The man had been gravely wounded trying to escape, but Jerry refused to let him die from his wounds. Against everyone’s recommendation, he’d performed emergency surgery and stabilized the man. Then, after the spy had come back to his faculties, Jerry had pronounced his sentence, asked for his last words, and killed him with an overdose of anesthetic—a humane execution.

From being unable to kill a patient when said patient needed treatment to lying about Ellie’s procedure to kill her… Abby couldn’t understand how the same man made both decisions. The more she learned about her father, the more she realized that he was just another villain in Ellie’s story.

And that made Joel the hero all along, didn’t it?

* * *

It was weird to have anyone other than Alyssa and Lev at her cell door. They’d delivered her meals, her bathwater, clothes, news, and conversation. Lev had even been kind enough to bring Abby’s pillow from their apartment.

It turned out quarantine was a great time to catch up on sleep.

Tonight, Escobar stood in front of her cell. He unlocked the door, looked Abby up and down, and immediately started to weep.

Thought Escobar’s doubt had never been in question, Alyssa’s disbelief turned to hope with each hour counted down, and Lev’s faith had remained steadfast. Abby ignored Escobar and accepted Lev and Alyssa’s tight hugs.

Things in Avalon looked surprisingly normal. Aside from FEDRA’s ships in their harbor and the soldiers that were patrolling Avalon, the Fireflies had been allowed to resume their normal activities. For Yasmin, that meant loitering outside Alyssa’s apartment.

Alyssa shut her door in Yasmin’s face wordlessly.

“Shouldn’t we—”

“Not right now,” was Alyssa’s clipped reply.

Their discussion with Escobar didn’t take nearly as long as Abby expected, though there was plenty of back and forth. Escobar had a good poker face, but he seemed genuine in his responses to their demands. He was willing to offer details about the QZ, and while Abby wouldn’t take his words at face value, it didn’t sound much different than the set-up the WLF had carved out in Seattle.

When they were done, Escobar turned off his recorder and slipped it into his pocket. “You’ll have an answer from the QZ head by morning. Unofficially… Welcome to FEDRA, ladies and gents.”

Alyssa spooned out bison stew for them, and they carried it up to the roof to eat. She sighed heavily and said, “I hate to be a downer, but FEDRA has all the power here.”

“They did in SFQZ, but imprisoning the cure for humanity didn’t work out too well for them.” Abby’s smile wasn’t forced. “I feel good about this.”

“Your instincts can be really off sometimes,” Lev said not unkindly. “But… I do too.”

“What do you want, Lev?”

“I want you to be happy. Both of you.”

Alyssa smiled gently at Lev, her gaze flickering to Abby briefly. “There are specialized doctors and surgeons in the QZ, Lev, and I’m sure they offer a structured surgeon training program. There are also more medical options than exist here.”

That was news. “Wait. Lev, you want to be a surgeon? How the hell did I not know this?!”

Lev shrugged nonchalantly. “Thinking about it. And I’m going either way, Al. Who else would look out for you two idiots?”

Abby would be happy to know Lev was safe on the island, but the fact he wanted to come with her and that there could be opportunities for him was… Abby ignored the part of her that expected another disappointment in the making. She had to believe that the promise of a cure had the power to unite. If it didn’t, then nothing would save any of them now.

Abby pushed the thought away and retorted, “The only idiot here is Al.”

“Ha,” Alyssa replied dryly.

After dinner, Lev excused himself. “I’m going home. I won’t wait up for you.”

Abby stared at the closed apartment door. “Did he just…?”

“Set up by a teenager,” Alyssa murmured. Then her arms rounded Abby’s waist, and she pressed a kiss to the back of Abby’s shoulder. Abby closed her eyes, reaching down to touch the soft skin of Alyssa’s arm. She reveled in the feeling of Alyssa pressed up against her back. If she reacted so strongly to that kiss, she had no idea what would happen if they did more. Spontaneous combustion?

“I wasn’t sure if you’d changed your mind.”

“I did not.”

“Does Yasmin know? I don’t want—”

“Yasmin has known how I feel about you for years. Why do you think she treated you so poorly?”

Abby balked at Alyssa’s assertion. She pulled away to study Alyssa. “You mean Yasmin all but sabotaged Avalon about fresh water, books, and supplies because she was jealous?!”

Alyssa was grinning, her eyes bright with surprising mirth. “And you wonder why I didn’t invite her to our negotiation meeting.”

“What the fuck?!” Abby traced back all those _years_ of derision before she realized what that implied about Alyssa’s feelings. Abby cupped Alyssa’s jaw, and Alyssa kissed her palm. “That isn’t what I asked, though. Does she know you’ve broken up with her?”

“I broke up with Yasmin before we left Catalina Island.”

“Oh, in that case—”

Alyssa pulled Abby’s head down and kissed her, slow and easy. Spontaneous combustion seemed a legitimate risk, but Abby retained enough sense to ask, “Wait, is this a good idea? We don’t know if my immunity is like Ellie’s—”

“Fuck caution.”

Sometime later, Abby rolled over and stretched, wincing as her body protested. “Fuck caution? More like fuck me,” she mumbled into the sheets. She had to look at the clock twice to convince herself of the time. Talk about a crash course in sex between two women. At least the mechanics weren’t much more complex than sex with Owen had been.

“What?” Alyssa asked from the kitchen. Abby stretched and laughed, fumbling to open the window by the bed and let in a cool breeze. Then, tired of waiting for Alyssa, she crossed the room.

“Hello,” Alyssa murmured, looking Abby up and down. “You should never wear clothes, Abby.”

“Imagine the sunburn.” After another slow kiss, Abby said, “I had this crazy idea that we were going to take it slow.”

“It isn’t like I’ve wanted you for four years or anything.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“It’s called U-Hauling.”

“Is that a sex position?”

Alyssa laughed in evident delight. “No, pervert.”

“Total pervert,” Abby replied, leaning on the counter. When Alyssa stepped between her legs, she sighed into her kiss. The feel of Alyssa’s soft robe against her thighs was delicious.

“Are you really okay with all of this?”

“Didn’t I seem okay with it?” Abby asked. She felt uncharacteristically forward as she pushed Alyssa’s hand between her legs. Alyssa offered a low laugh, her fingers moving teasingly, but she withdrew with a sigh. “I meant giving up your freedom to FEDRA.”

Not nearly as fun, but Abby didn’t want to brush off Alyssa’s concern. “I told my dad once that if I were Ellie, I’d want him to do the surgery on me if it meant the world could have a cure. This feels like a sure thing. And, fuck, if I was okay torturing Scars for the WLF and scavenging for the Fireflies, serving as a potential savior of humanity for FEDRA seems like a promotion.”

“For her?” Alyssa raised Abby’s hand to kiss her palm. “You know that if you try to escape, they’re going to go after her again.”

“Mostly this is for me. I can do this. Isaac taught me how to climb the professional ladder. By the time we have a cure, I plan to be in a position to hold them accountable when it comes to spreading it.”

“I’m scared.”

“Why?” When Alyssa struggled to reply, Abby cupped her cheeks. “Because of this?”

“I’m scared that I’ll be responsible for your care. I’m scared I’m going to fuck it up or hurt you. I’m scared they’ll make me feel like I have to. I don’t want to have to cut into you, Abby.”

“Cutting is probably part of it, but trust me when I tell you I’d rather it be you. What’s the saying? The chance to cut is the chance to cure?”

Alyssa sighed. “Your faith in me is…”

“Naïve?”

“Beautiful.” She sank against Abby’s body. “I guess I should try to start deserving you.”

“It’s not about deserving me.”

Alyssa tilted her head up, perching her chin on Abby’s chest. Her smile was slow and knowing. “How about this? I’ll try to be happy.”

Abby kissed her, reveling in Alyssa’s smile.

* * *

Abby found Ellie on the beach late the next morning. It was bizarre to see her in standard island fare: shorts, sandals, and a bright patterned button-down shirt. It was even funnier to see Jo trying to chat her up. Ellie appeared to be humoring his attempts to flirt as she picked at the shells beneath her feet.

She’d been sleeping in Abby and Lev’s apartment, which meant Abby got the couch tonight. She was more than okay with that.

“Why do you always hit on the lesbians, Jo?”

Jo was too busy lifting Abby in a tight hug to tease her back. Abby grunted at his strength—apparently dropping fifty pounds of muscle didn’t deter him—and laughed despite herself.

“So glad you’re back, Abs.”

“Workout tonight?”

“Fuck, yeah!” he exclaimed.

She punched him gently in the shoulder and nodded towards Ellie. “Can I talk to Ellie in private?”

“What will Doc say?” he whispered, wagging his eyebrows. When Abby blushed, his eyes went wide, and he cupped an ear. “What’s that? No protests? No denials? Is Doc Al your girl now, Abby? You two finally grinding lady parts?!”

“Oh, my god!” she gasped, pushing him away. Jo’s laugh was audible even as he wandered back up the beach, leaving Abby alone with Ellie. Ellie didn’t seem nearly as happy to see her as Jo had been.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“Busy. How’re you holding up?”

Ellie shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts and tilted her face into the sun. “Nice haircut.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” Abby palmed her hair. Rose had nearly scalped her, but trust Alyssa to salvage a cut out of it.

“What’s this deal with FEDRA?”

“Ironed out now. They’re gonna let the Fireflies keep the island. Honestly, the best part of the deal is they’re pushing into Santa Barbara to disband the Rattlers.”

“Whoever will feed southern California?”

“Southern California.” Abby’s smile was uncontrollable.

Ellie cocked her head. “What’s up with you? Are you high?”

“Just happy. Hey, you wanna take the boat out this afternoon? I can give you tips on sea fishing. We have great yellowtail and sea bass out here.”

Ellie didn’t bite. Abby sighed, realizing she hadn’t exactly prepared a speech for this. Something in the sand caught her eye, and she bent over to pluck up a big shell. She shook wet sand from it, slipped a finger inside, and yelped, drawing Ellie’s startled look. Abby grinned and tossed the shell to her.

“Dick,” Ellie muttered without any heat. She turned the shell over to rest it on her palm.

“JJ would probably like that.”

“Abby…” Ellie murmured wearily.

“Tell him to hold it to his ear to hear the ocean.” Abby smiled despite Ellie’s worry. “Hey, just trust me. I’ve got this figured out. We’ll talk about it on the boat. But right now is lunchtime. You had rockfish yet? Lev has a great recipe. Come on.”

* * *

It was a nice afternoon to take a boat out. They spent some time fishing up bait, but Abby could tell despite the fact Ellie was here on the boat with her, she was far away mentally. The FEDRA boats in sight probably didn’t help.

“Take a load off.”

Ellie settled on the edge of the boat beside her, turning her gaze into the sun. She declined a beer. Ellie rested her chin on the short railing and sighed, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Abby.

“So what’s a u-haul?”

At least that earned a grin. “I guess Al gets the toaster, then.”

“Shit, it’s like a whole new language.”

Ellie sobered. “Do you trust that Acosta guy?”

“He’s against the Rattlers. That has to be a show of character.”

“Did the Fireflies really arm them?”

Abby shrugged. “Look for the light, right? I used to say realizing any group was shit was just growing up, but maybe growing up is realizing you have to be the person who steps up to hold your group accountable and try to make the world a better place.”

Ellie’s gaze was set on the horizon, her tone wistful. “The only time I ever thought I could be a part of something like that was when Marlene told me the Fireflies could make a vaccine from me. It felt meant to be, you know? I was never going to be anything in Boston, but I had the chance for my life to really mean something. We fought so hard to get to Salt Lake City for that. Then, after what Joel did… It’s felt this whole time like Joel fucked the world over when he didn’t let me die in Salt Lake City.”

“What do you mean?”

“You ever see that movie, the one with all the people who survive a plane crash, but then they have to die to set things right?”

“Yeah, it was a piece of shit.”

Ellie wasn’t deterred. “If I’d died that day… Joel would probably be alive. Tommy too, still married to Maria. Jesse and Dina would be happily married, and JJ would probably have a little brother or sister. Jackson would be safe, no Rattlers. Maybe infection wouldn’t be a thing anymore either.”

“Ellie, I know if we asked any one of them, they would choose you every time.”

Abby was surprised by Ellie’s fragile expression. “That last night, Joel told me he would do it all over again. I thought I made my peace with it, but… For so long I thought the only way for my life and all those people who died for me to have meaning was if something came from my immunity. You can’t just unlearn that.”

“Ellie…”

“But then FEDRA cut into me for months and still couldn’t figure it out. Maybe there really is no such thing as fate and it _was_ just a one in a billion chance. I’m just…not sure I can handle that.”

“Why not?”

“I guess… It seems like anyone else in the world would make more of it than me.”

Abby wasn’t cut out for philosophical arguments, not past her book clubs. She knew from her own experiences that Ellie’s selective nihilism would take years to deconstruct. It sounded like Ellie had been working at it, but Abby could guess recent months had erased some of her progress.

“Why did you let me go in Santa Barbara?”

Ellie looked at her in surprise. “Took too long to drown you, maybe.”

Abby expressed her surprise with a chuckle, reflecting Ellie’s tentative smile. “Fair enough. How about… Why did you come back for me?”

“Where? Here?”

“Or Jackson. Take your pick.”

“It just wouldn’t’ve been right not to.”

“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re a good person, Ellie.”

Ellie offered Abby a startled glance.

“And that you deserve to be happy.”

“Stop it. I heard your broadcast. I know you had to sell me out to FEDRA. I get it, and I don’t blame you.”

Abby stared at the woman next to her in shock. Ellie was weary, not angry, and Abby could read no blame in her. It took a moment for Abby to find her voice. “You thought I was talking about you?”

“Who else would you be talking about, Abby?”

“And you came back for us anyway?”

Ellie turned enough to face her. “Yeah.”

Never had Abby wanted to hug someone who wouldn’t welcome it as badly as this moment. She felt her expression break as she fought tears. Well, that proved her fucking point, didn’t it? She cleared her throat to say, “There’s another option.”

“No, there fucking isn’t! What—”

“I can.”

“What the fuck—”

Abby leaned closer, hoping Ellie saw the truth of it on her face. “You gave it to me, Ellie. My mask broke in those tunnels. I breathed spores and didn’t realize it. Apricots, right? And I got bit in that pool. Three days ago. Look.” Abby held out her right hand, turning it so Ellie could see the bruised and scabbed bite. “I’m immune too.”

“How the fuck…” Ellie’s fingers trembled as she reached out to touch Abby’s wound.

“Must have been when I bit you in Santa Barbara.” Abby felt like her smile was going to crack her face apart. She’d never been this happy, and the best part was she could share that happiness with Ellie. “Maybe everything _did_ happen for a reason. We had to fight on that beach for me to get your immunity. I had to get you out of SFQZ, and you had to come back to save me from the Rattlers. All for this! _This_ …” Abby displayed her bite. “This is the culmination of us both doing the right fucking thing in our own fucked up ways.”

“Holy shit.” Ellie’s eyes went wide. “Holy fucking shit.”

“Ellie, you did your part. Go home to your family. Live your life. Be happy.”

“You’re taking my place,” Ellie whispered. “You’d just give your freedom up for me?”

“It’s not just for you. I need this too. I’ve been trying to figure out my place in this whole mess of a world too, and this finally feels right. I want to do this.”

Ellie looked at Abby, and after a moment, her strained smile fractured with evident tears. Ellie rested her palm tentatively on Abby’s hand. It was the first time she’d touched Abby voluntarily outside of combat.

“You…”

Ellie’s voice cracked. Abby stared at Ellie’s shaking hand on her own. She rested her hand over Ellie’s, gently pressing to stop the shake. Ellie wept, clutching her chest with her free hand. Abby was uncertain in the face of the magnitude of Ellie’s emotional response. Her words felt woefully inadequate, but Abby said them anyway.

“Ellie, it’s going to be okay.”

Ellie choked out a laugh that belied her tears and looked Abby in the eye to say, “I believe you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the reactions/responses/reviews!


	14. Almost home

Was there such a thing as a relief attack? The only thing anchoring Ellie to the world was Abby’s grip on her hand. Every negative expectation, fear, and self-recrimination fell away at the same time, and she could hardly breathe for the lightness that swept over her. She felt like she was floating over her own body, buoyed with the bright, overpowering emotions that overwhelmed her.

Anxiety had been her constant companion for so long that its absence left a strange void.

Was this what everyone else felt like all the time?

“It’s going to be okay,” Abby said, firm in her belief.

Ellie couldn’t help but laugh. That was the goddamn point because for the first time, Ellie could honestly say, “I believe you.”

If Ellie had spread her immunity to Abby, then it could be spread. And, as Abby had claimed, Ellie’s part was done. The shackles of her immunity opened. She was free. Because she’d done the right goddamn thing.

No more living on borrowed time. Her debt was paid.

“Fuck.” Ellie freed her hand from Abby’s firm grip and wiped her face. She stared at her steady fingers before glancing over at the woman beside her. Abby smiled back tentatively. “Sure you don’t want that beer?”

She managed a brief answering smile.

Ellie wiped her eyes and took deep breaths as she collected herself. Past her relief and her belief in Abby’s truth, she pondered things on a little more even keel. If it were a fairytale ending, Ellie would ask Abby to drop her off on LA’s beach so she could turn her boots east immediately, but Ellie couldn’t ignore the vague concern that they were missing something obvious.

Shit just didn’t work out like this in her life. And when Ellie went back to Jackson, she was never going to leave again.

“What do we have to do to make sure you don’t need me?”

Abby looked at her as if she wasn’t surprised to be disappointed. Dare Ellie consider her smile affectionate? “From prior experience, Al’s going to have a list of requests if you ask her that.”

“Guess that means I should.”

“And I guess that’s my cue to get us back to Avalon. So much for fishing.”

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?”

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “Lev’s been talking shit, hasn’t he?”

“Just don’t crash us into a beach, okay?”

“God,” Abby muttered, feigning irritation admirably.

* * *

Submitting to spinal taps and blood draws wasn’t nearly as awful as it had been in SFQZ. First and foremost, Al asked permission. She hoped to control for technique differences by sampling Abby and Ellie at the same time. Past that important detail, Al had good technique, walked Ellie through every step, and used local anesthetic in a way that relieved a lot of the sharp pain that started the sampling.

“Why was Jae so fucking bad at this?”

Al’s voice took a quiet lull while she worked. “Tara liked that. She hated when I was careful. Still doing okay?”

“Yeah. Was she always that fucked up?”

“She claimed I was the reason.”

“Those kind of people are usual their own problem.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

How familiar was that self-blame? “A wise man once told me you can’t love someone else if you don’t love yourself.”

Al was silent for a moment before she said, “I wish I’d been able to talk to you years ago.”

“That’s all my helpful advice. Are we almost done?”

“A few more minutes.”

Ellie didn’t even feel when Al removed the catheter from her spinal canal, though the pressure released as expected. As soon as the plaster was stuck to her back, she sat up and adjusted her clothes.

Funny what not being afraid for her life did to her outlook. The spinal tap still was awful, but it wasn’t nearly as bad with someone she trusted handling the catheter.

Buff, stoic Abby had her first spinal tap an hour later. She winced and groaned as soon as the catheter was seated. “Fucking shit, that’s really…”

“It won’t take long, honey. Breathe and relax your abs, okay?” Al detached the manometer and began collecting tubes of clear spinal fluid. Abby bared her teeth, then consciously relaxed. By her breathing pattern, she was still uncomfortable.

“I feel like a baby. You probably didn’t flinch,” Abby complained after the samples were collected.

“You are a baby,” Ellie retorted dryly. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Just wait for the headache.”

“We can fix that if you get one,” Al replied distractedly.

Of course they fucking could.

Al declined Abby and Lev’s invitation for dinner; she was obviously focused on the samples she’d just collected and Abby’s CT scan. By the look Abby and Lev exchanged, one of them would return with food later.

On the way through town, Abby said, “I scored some awesome mezcal from Escobar. You should try some.”

“No thanks.”

“Do you not drink?” Abby asked her curiously.

“I’m not against it in general, but I’m pregnant so—”

Abby ran into an old signpost. Lev doubled over with laughter; he raised a hand for a high-five from Ellie. It wasn’t like she’d planned that reaction, but the timing deserved his congratulations. His face was still a variety of colors, but it didn’t look like his grin hurt him anymore.

“You’re a real doofus sometimes,” she told Abby, who still sat where she’d fallen and stared up at Ellie in shock.

“Is that why you’re staying?” Abby asked her on the boat a few days later. She’d walked out of quarantine about a week before and seemed more anxious for Ellie to leave than Ellie was herself.

Maybe knowing she could leave made the difference.

“Al said they’re going to fly in an obstetrician in a few days. We have care in Jackson, but no one can read an ultrasound better than me there.” It had nothing to do with the cure, but fuck, she needed this.

“Are you… Is it from the lab?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ,” Abby murmured, her brow drawn. “Are you okay?”

Abby’s concern had ceased to surprise her. Ellie thought about brushing the truth off but found herself saying, “Trying not to get my hopes up.”

Abby clasped her hands as she leaned against the boat’s wheel. “Do you think you’re going to lose it?”

“Active fungal infection,” Ellie reminded her. Then she realized what applied to her applied to Abby now; it was still so fucking weird to know there was another person like her in the world. She felt a little jolt of something light every time she was reminded of that truth.

Abby seemed too busy trying to figure out what to say to make that connection. It almost hurt to watch her struggle to reply. Ellie gave Abby ten amusing seconds to grapple for words before she had pity. “I want to try for one of those rockfish today.”

Immediately, Abby relaxed. “Sure. I can set us up for that.”

* * *

The obstetrician came with another doctor, a compact man who enthusiastically greeted each of them at the clinic. By his features, this was the infamous Dr. Acosta, Escobar’s father and CBI researcher. He was far older than Ellie would have guessed. He walked in a slow shuffle, and his hand shook as he reached out to Al.

By that walk, his cradled left arm, and the asymmetry of his face, he must have had a stroke semi-recently. If he didn’t have another doctor trained up under him, SDQZ had to be as desperate for Al to join as they were to have Abby and her immunity.

“Dr. Alyssa. It’s an honor. I followed your work until you disappeared from SFQZ. I can’t wait to collaborate with you in San Diego.”

“Dr. Acosta. The honor’s mine.”

He appeared as dubious as Ellie was about Al’s pleasantry. “Here’s a joke. What is the only thing a CBI researcher hates more than CBI?”

“Another CBI researcher?”

He laughed and immediately relaxed. “We’re going to get along fine. We’ll talk later, you and I, about how we do things in San Diego.”

Al let her expression shift as he turned away, her doubt plain now. She watched like the rest of them as Dr. Acosta set his gaze on Abby. He went still as he recognized her, then, with a slow, shuffling step, he reached out to her. Abby hesitantly approached.

Funny thing to see such a huge woman terrified of a little old man.

“Abigail. Look at you. You look so like your father. I see him in your eyes.”

With a smile, Dr. Acosta pulled Abby into a loose hug. Her eyes widened comically at the embrace.

“Care to take a walk with me?”

After Abby and Acosta disappeared out of the clinic doors—Abby waiting patiently as the doctor shuffled along beside her—the other doctor introduced herself as Shirin. She worked with efficient energy; she took Ellie’s history, drew a few samples of blood, asked Ellie for a urine sample, checked her blood pressure, and finally, settled Ellie back on a clinic bed and rolled over the ultrasound machine.

“Ellie?”

“I’m okay,” she told Al, who shot Shirin a warning look before walking back into her office.

Things in the CBI lab had always been either too cold or too hot. Today, the ultrasound gel was comfortably warm, and even if the pressure of the moving probe was a little firmer than comfortable, it wasn’t unpleasant.

Ellie looked between the screen and the doctor’s face. Dr. Shirin kept a straight face without being cold, murmuring quietly as she flipped views and changed images. Ellie didn’t see any abnormalities based on what she knew; she was especially keen to see the baby’s head. When she saw the gender, she had to rest her head on the pillow to fight tears.

“Are you okay, Ellie?”

“Do you see anything wrong?”

“No. Do you want to know the gender?”

“It’s a girl.”

Dr. Shirin seemed surprised by her certainty. Then she smiled and looked back at the screen. “See? Ten fingers and ten toes. And her face.”

Ellie ached for Dina. She’d put thoughts of her family aside for the moment, but god, did she want them right then. “Are you sure? I need to know so I can…”

“Prepare for the worst?” Dr. Shirin set aside the ultrasound probe. “I was told your pregnancy is high risk, but everything, including your baby, seems to be normal. I have two doctors in the QZ who will review the images too. We’ll go over your blood tests as soon as the results are back—two days at the latest—and if we need more testing, we’ll plan for it. Okay?”

“Thanks for coming all the way out here.”

“Between you and me, I volunteered for the helicopter ride.” Dr. Shirin offered a wink—one of the few non-skeezy winks Ellie had seen—and reached out with a warm, damp towel to wipe the gel from Ellie’s skin.

She was cleaned up by the time Dr. Acosta returned with Abby. He made a beeline—as quickly as his shuffling gait allowed—for Ellie, holding out his hand to cue her that he expected this. Instead of a shake, he clutched her hand like she was some kind of princess. When she met his searching gaze, she saw keen intellect.

Then he ruined it when he said, “I’ve spent some time imagining this moment, but words fail me. You are not a disappointment, Ellie.”

“You’re really fucking weird.” Even if she’d felt the need to, there would have been no way to disguise her emotion. But the doctor gave a coarse laugh and asked, “Do you mind if I get a picture with you?”

“I’d rather not.”

“I had to ask,” he said. When Abby and Alyssa disappeared into the back of the clinic—probably to mack on each other, the big lesbos—Dr. Acosta sobered.

“I understand you’re wary of FEDRA after what happened in the last year.”

“I’m wary of any group that wants to cut into me. I heard you guys control SFQZ.”

“The reason we do was specifically to shut down that lab.” Acosta slowly sank down into the seat beside Ellie and sighed. “Whoever destroyed it beat us to it.”

‘Whoever’. Coy old man.

“Who’s ‘us’?” Ellie asked.

Acosta studied her. “Our QZ leader, Bradshaw, suggested it would be better not to mention his name, but I’ve always thought, ‘Better the devil you know.’”

Bradshaw. Little bitch Bradshaw. _‘I’m not your fucking daddy.’_ Ellie clenched her jaw, felt a surge of bitter anger, and then realized that it made no difference either way. She let her anger go in a surprisingly freeing moment.

“I suppose that look confirms you have history.”

“Ancient history.”

“I doubt he agrees. At least trust he will honor the agreement.”

“What agreement?”

“Abigail negotiated that you and your family are wiped from FEDRA’s database. You effectively don’t exist anymore.”

Of course she had. Up bubbled a small measure of guilt for the doubt that had crept in those lonely two days of Abby’s quarantine. With Abby gone and Ellie never finding herself alone, Ellie had become more and more certain her Firefly shadows were present to prevent her escape. Turned out they were around to protect her from FEDRA.

“In all QZs?”

“As far as we’re aware, SFQZ guarded your bounty from other QZs. We only learned about it this year. Now we control them, and their database has been updated.”

“And the lab information?”

Acosta hesitated. “Forgive us for this, but they did collect valuable data. We can use it, even if we reflect upon the evil done to gain it.”

“I don’t care about that. Tara threatened my family—”

“You’re pragmatic,” Dr. Acosta said, like it was a shock. “No, we’ve relabeled it for anonymity. Your identity is protected even in that. FEDRA won’t come after you or your family, Ellie.”

What could she do but trust this was true, trust that Bradshaw thought he had to make up for their fucked up past, and trust that Abby would fulfill her part of the bargain?

In the wake of her silence, Acosta wiped the corner of his mouth and said, “She reminds me of her father. I know he would be proud of her for this… Did you meet Dr. Anderson?”

The question made Ellie stiffen. “Didn’t get the opportunity.”

Dr. Acosta studied her steadily. “You know, then?”

She didn’t have it in her to deflect. She clasped her hands and nodded.

“Does Abigail know?”

“No.”

Then Dr. Acosta saw someone over Ellie’s shoulder and stood up slowly, his benign smile back in place. Ellie glanced back and shook her head when Abby shot her a questioning look. She could rescue herself from that weirdness.

Except when she escaped the clinic, she ran into a Firefly loitering across the street. By the way the woman started when she recognized Ellie, Ellie was in for another awkward conversation. The woman was old enough to be mostly gray; the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes were the only bits of skin on her face not deeply tanned. The woman smiled and held out her hand to shake Ellie’s.

“I’m Tamsin.”

Ellie vaguely recognized her from the beach of Two Harbors. “Ellie.”

Tamsin offered a soft smile, looking at Ellie as if memorizing her features. “You look so like your mother. The first time I saw you, I thought you were Anna. And if I’m not mistaken, that knife was hers, wasn’t it?”

Ellie stilled, touched her back pocket, and looked Tamsin over again. Her thirst for knowledge surprised her. She’d thought she made peace with the fact that any memory of her mother was dead with Marlene. “Did you know her?”

“I did. Not well, and I can’t say we got along, but…” Tamsin reached into her pocket and pressed something into Ellie’s hand. Ellie opened her palm and smoothed the faded, creased polaroid. The first face Ellie recognized was Marlene, young and soft. Ellie studied the woman beside Marlene. She did bear a striking similarity to Ellie. Or vice versa.

What a surreal picture.

“Is that…?”

“Anna and Marlene.”

Her gaze traced over the ghosts of her past. Their arms were wrapped around each other, and they grinned at the camera freely. “Did you… Do you know who my father was?”

“I’m sorry, no. But…” Tamsin hesitated. “I suppose there’s no reason to hide it anymore. Marlene and Anna were lovers.”

“Oh.” Ellie had no idea how to feel about that knowledge, but the first thing that registered wasn’t happiness. Ellie tilted the photograph back and forth, then flipped it over to see someone had printed the words _‘2013 – our first summer’_ on the back. She knew that handwriting. Her mother had written those words.

“Can I keep this?”

“Of course,” Tamsin said softly. She took Ellie’s hand and squeezed. “Ellie… I’m so glad you and Abigail found each other.”

That drew her attention. “Why?”

“You’re both the children of the Fireflies’ earliest medical leaders. Anna paved the way for Jerry Anderson’s medical program in Salt Lake City. It seems to me only fitting their children found each other, especially in this way.”

Ellie looked down at the photograph in hand before she raised it. “Thanks.”

Tamsin studied her. “They would both be proud of you.”

The sentiment behind the statement was appreciated, but Ellie found herself disappointingly underwhelmed by the thought it might be true.

* * *

The prenatal bloodwork came back normal. “How?” Ellie asked Al. “I’ve been exposed so many times.”

“Maybe your immunity is protective. Ellie, I think we’ll just have to wait and see. I know that’s not what you want to hear. Unless you want more invasive testing—”

She didn’t want to wait and see, but she didn’t want a needle anywhere near her baby. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to wait something out. “No. Have you run enough tests to know if Abby’s immunity is like mine?”

Al removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She offered Ellie a gentle smile. “Are you okay?”

“Al.”

“I can safely say that you and Abby have identical infections, right down to the location of your cerebral fungal plaques. I don’t know enough yet to know how it happened, but…”

“Do you have a guess?”

“I don’t have proof, but I think Abby’s right: it has everything to do with your fight in Santa Barbara. What I suspect is that whatever makes you immune—and arrested your Cordyceps’ growth—must be transmitted at the same time as a viable infection.

“I believe your clicker bite still had viable fungus locally, and you infected Abby _and_ transmitted your immunity at the same time. The Fireflies have relentlessly pursued a vaccine for decades, but we may be looking at a post-exposure treatment instead.”

If that was true… Seeing Joel whole and happy that moment before all fight slipped out of her on that beach felt like divine intervention. Ellie pulled that truth into herself, and despite the part of her that scoffed to consider it, she was warmed by the thought of Joel guiding her gently to the right path.

For the first time, Ellie understood Dina’s need to believe in a higher power.

That night, Lev and Abby coaxed Al away from her research long enough to share dinner in her apartment over the clinic. Ellie was comfortable with their dynamic by now and enjoyed their conversation and the fact that half of Lev’s statements were at Abby’s expense. After dinner, the Firefly trio took shots, and Abby kindly took a shot for Ellie. Bitch.

“You ready to start planning your trip home? I need you out of here before FEDRA flies us to SDQZ,” Abby told her.

“That’s up to her.” Ellie tilted her chin at Al, who turned from her conversation with Lev to say, “Yes. Go home.”

“Hear that, Ellie? You’re done.”

Never had that phrase been said or taken so kindly. Ellie lay in bed that night with the windows open to allow in the cool evening breeze, and she marveled at how light she felt. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt like this before.

She fell asleep quickly, fading into rest in the slow, effortless way she so rarely achieved.

Severe cramping woke her in the dead of night. Ellie rolled to her side and doubled over at the sensation. The baby inside her jerked and pushed, stretching her skin. She saw the shape of its skull and moaned in horror. Then the cramps turned to sharp burning. As she watched, her skin split like thin leather, and her baby emerged from her body in a gush of blood, Ellie’s flesh pinched between its teeth. It had the face of a clicker.

Ellie woke with a horrified gasp and rolled over, pressing a hand to her lower abdomen to push at the soft curve there. Nothing. No movement, no pain, no cramps. She fumbled to touch between her legs; staring at her hand to confirm there was no blood.

Her fears were nothing but a dark fantasy, her anxiety reestablishing itself in her life. Fuck, it had felt so real. Ellie smoothed her hand down her abdomen again as she pressed her other hand to her face.

When she regained her composure, she wiped her tears away, changed out of her sweaty clothes, and crossed the hallway to splash cool water on her face.

Lev’s bedroom door was open, and there was a light on in the kitchen. Ellie discovered Abby sitting in the kitchen with a tumbler on the table in front of her. Abby acknowledged her with a look. “Hey. Can’t sleep?”

“Nightmare.” Ellie sat down on the chair Abby shoved out with one bare foot. “Where’s Lev?”

“At his girlfriend’s.”

“You two trading off?”

Abby snorted, her smile tight. She was clearly off.

“You too?”

“What?”

“Bad dream?”

Abby leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I used to have nightmares about finding my father dead. They got better, but…”

“Had it again? I have one about…”

“Joel?”

“Yeah,” Ellie admitted. She nodded in thanks as Abby poured her water. “Not often anymore. But I can’t get to him in time. I hear his pain, but I can’t get through the goddamn door.”

“Mm…” Abby smoothed her thumb over the edge of her glass. “Mine’s a little like that. I always run through the hallway in Salt Lake City hospital, open the surgery door... Usually I find him dead.” She raised her gaze briefly. “I dreamed I killed him tonight. Pretty fucked up, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty fucked up.” Ellie wet her mouth, then took a few gusty swallows. “Tonight was a new one for me. Dreamed my baby ate its way out of me. It was a clicker.”

“Well…” Abby pursed her lips and nodded. “Yours might be more fucked up than mine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Famous last words with you.” Abby’s smile belied her tone. She tilted her glass and drank the last bit of water before refilling it. “I used to think he was perfect. Everyone said he was a genius, the best neurosurgeon in America. But he looked Marlene in the eye and said there was no other way.”

“Maybe that was true. It’s been ten years—”

Abby shook her head. “Al said that brain biopsy technique has been around before my father was born. If he wanted to use it, he would have found a way.”

“What if the equipment wasn’t there?”

“He could have built it. Or brought it in from somewhere else. I found a textbook about it in Al’s clinic. It’s a cube frame and a protractor that slots into it; easy to make.” She spun her glass between the fingers of one hand. “My dad lied. He didn’t have to kill you. But he was going to, and he would have wasted the cure too.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Fuck, Ellie… Let’s face it. Joel made the right decision.”

“Joel made the right decision for Joel,” Ellie retorted, earning Abby’s surprise. “I loved him. I still love him, but he would have stopped that surgery no matter what because he couldn’t face losing another daughter. He didn’t give a fuck about the cure or the Fireflies or the world or even what I wanted. Abby, even if I died for just the chance of the cure, that’s a choice I would have made.”

Abby shook her head impatiently. “I just don’t understand why. He had trouble sometimes connecting to people, but choosing to kill someone instead of any alternative? That was against everything he stood for. Jesus, you were just a kid!”

Ellie pondered it. The horrors from her months in captivity would never leave her; she’d nearly shot herself on the beach when confronted by the possibility of going back. J Anderson’s name had been on the wall of the very facility that had held her, but he’d left FEDRA for a reason.

“Was it?”

“Look, I know from your side he may not seem like a moral person, but—”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Maybe he knew what it would mean if he didn’t.”

Abby’s confused stare made Ellie elaborate. “If I died on that table, I wouldn’t have to be their guinea pig. It would be done one way or the other. Maybe he’d seen enough suffering not to think it was worth putting a kid through forced confinement and months, maybe years of torture.”

“Why not let you go then?”

“For humanity’s sake. My life for the rest of it. Without suffering.”

Abby turned to look Ellie full in the face. Her brows were drawn, and her mouth was compressed. At first Ellie thought she was angry, but Abby abruptly raised her fist to her mouth, and she had to clear her throat a few times to speak. “I think that’s…pretty fucking generous of you.”

“It’s hard to accept they were human just like us, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Abby replied with a tearful smile. “Scary to think about how infallible our kids probably will…or do see us in your case.”

“JJ had this school project last year, talking about his favorite hero. He was really into those superhero cards at the time, and Dina’s talked to him about his dad since he was a baby so I figured…” Ellie shrugged.

“He chose you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. Surprised the fuck out of me.” Ellie could picture the way his face had lit up as he answered she was his hero, then how it crumpled at her shocked silence. “All I saw were my fuck-ups, but he thought everything I did, fuck-ups included, was right.”

“Are we ever going to feel like grownups?”

Ellie shrugged; it was the only answer she had to Abby’s question.

They were all just trying to do their best. She reminded herself of that truth again in light of her knowledge of Marlene and Anna’s relationship, but it still stung. If Marlene had been Anna’s friend, Ellie could understand her decision to leave Ellie in FEDRA’s orphanage system, even to have her killed for humanity. But as Anna’s partner…

“Your nightmare… Did you hear any more news?”

Ellie shrugged. “It’s not that. That woman, Tamsin, said she knew my mother and Marlene. She said they were together, lovers.”

“Yeah?” Abby asked cautiously.

“It’s just… If Joel killed Marlene, she must have wanted to kill me for the cure. I get it as a human, but I don’t as a parent, you know? And I guess… Maybe it’s petty, but it hurts that Marlene must not have wanted me as a baby.”

“I don’t…” Abby sighed and tapped the table awkwardly with her glass. “You know what she asked my dad? ‘If it were your daughter, what would you do?’ He never answered her. Maybe she fucked up, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t care.”

After all the shit that Ellie had put her family through, how could she judge Marlene? There were a thousand reasons why Marlene hadn’t adopted her, and even if she had, Ellie was separated enough to know it wouldn’t have turned out like the fantasy she’d constructed as a lonely orphan in Boston. She certainly couldn’t blame Marlene for making the choice she’d punished Joel for undoing.

Ellie would have to find a way to let this go. There were no answers, not anymore.

After a moment of awkward silence, Abby offered her a tense smile. “Wanna watch a movie?”

When Abby fell asleep during the second act, Ellie turned off the television and shifted Abby to a more comfortable position on the couch. Instead of going back to bed, Ellie put her feet up on the balcony and contemplated the sky, picking out a few constellations and wondering how so much empty space seemed so full.

She’d asked Joel once where his heaven would be, and he’d pointed up at the stars. Ellie hated that she’d laughed at him for that answer, but she’d been sixteen and thought she knew everything there was to know about the universe.

Abby mumbled something and shifted, drawing Ellie’s attention briefly. If Joel could see her now, what would he think? He’d probably be more okay with this bizarre friendship than Tommy would be. But even Tommy had let go of his hatred in the moment.

Abruptly, tears threatened. She felt like she hadn’t had any time to mourn Tommy, but now her grief rose high and tight. She’d let Joel go after years of grief and self-blame, but she wasn’t quite ready to let go of Tommy.

Despite the man who had connected them so intimately, they hardly talked of Joel. Ellie would never forget the handful of times that Joel came up. Their last conversation had taken place after dark in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy dragged over a stool with his good leg and asked Ellie to sit with him for a few minutes. She’d obliged, bemused by his sentimentalism.

“I never said, but thank you.”

“For what?” she asked him.

He cleared his throat and sipped his whiskey, his good eye glassy with tears. “For asking me to stand with you. It meant… No, it _means_ a lot. After what I said that time…”

He didn’t seem into his cups, but sometimes Tommy could be deceiving. Ellie couldn’t track his thought process so it made her wonder if he’d been hitting the liquor hard that day.

She’d asked him to be sober for her wedding, and he’d been eager to prove himself. He’d been dressed in his nicest denim, his hair and beard freshly trimmed, and he’d even teared up when he recited his assigned blessings with Maria.

No matter what Dina thought, Tommy was a good man.

Now Ellie asked him, “What are you talking about?”

“What I said when I told you where to find her. I shouldn’t’ve said what I did. About it being easy.”

Ellie hesitated before she nodded at Greg behind the bar. “Can I have an Old Fashioned?”

“Double?”

“No.”

When Greg presented her drink with a flourish a minute later, Ellie sipped and sighed at the taste of whiskey, sugar, and bitters. It was the right season for an orange peel too. Greg had been kind enough to give her three cherries in her drink.

“That kinda conversation, huh?” Tommy said dryly.

Ellie swirled her drink, listening to the clatter of the ice. “Tommy, I think I had to go. It wasn’t right, but it was all I could do.”

“The world’s a better place without that bitch in it.”

Ellie took a heavier swallow of her drink, smoothing her left thumb over the stumps of her last two fingers. “I’m just…really lucky Dina took me back.”

“She’s a good ‘un. But you did your part,” Tommy replied quietly. He tipped his glass before drinking the last bit of whiskey. “How’d you convince her to have me stand with you?”

“I just asked,” Ellie replied honestly.

“I spent all month memorizing those blessings, you know. Best day I had in years.” Tommy chuckled, then his smile fell away. “I’m proud of you. And Joel would be proud of you too, Ellie.”

She thought of her baggage, her mistakes, of the recent dark day she’d been too distracted by anxiety to engage with JJ or Dina. “You think so?”

“You think he wouldn’t be?”

“Joel always said family was above everything else. And I’ve fucked up with them more than once.”

“Ellie, I don’t know what you know about Joel’s past, but he made plenty of mistakes.”

“Yeah, but he made them for his family.”

“He made mistakes _with_ his family. With me. With Sarah. With his wife. Our parents. And with you.”

“Tommy…”

“I’m not saying he didn’t do his best, but nobody’s perfect. And what you done, coming back, living for them… That’s all you could do, and you did it.” His smile was tense. He cleared his throat, affecting a more casual tone. “You ever considered having your own? I don’t mean JJ ain’t yours, but you know, carrying one?”

“Sometimes, but…” She touched her tattoo, drawing his attention. “Did you and Maria…?”

“By the time we considered, it was already too late. And besides, I like being an uncle. All the spoilin’, none of the discipline.”

Ellie thought of JJ’s recent tantrum and couldn’t help but reflect Tommy’s smile. He had a point, not that Ellie would trade her place in JJ’s life for anything.

“You know what Joel told me that last day?” Tommy waved for a refill and sipped it before he continued. “He told me he was happy. He was lookin’ forward to watching you grow up and be your own person. He told me once it would be alright even if he wasn’t a part of it, but the fact you gave him that…” Tommy worked his jaw, his voice going high and tight with tears. “I think that was the best goddamn day of his life. And I think we’d all be lucky to die on the best day of our lives.”

She fought her tears, something inside going soft at the thought of Joel talking it through with his brother. “I just wish he could have had a few more.”

“After Sarah died, he said…” Tommy’s voice caught, and he wiped his eyes. “He said that he… Fuck. He said he didn’t fucking believe in nothing else, that he may as well live for now. But that day he died, he told me… ‘Tommy, I think she’s up there waiting for me.’” Tommy choked and cleared his throat, hiding his eyes behind his hand.

Ellie blinked, tears blurring her vision. Her grief was powerful, but it wasn’t bitter tonight. Tommy swallowed a few times before he said, “I gotta believe that’s the way it is. That when it’s my turn, they’ll be waiting for me too.”

“We met two brothers in Philadelphia. Sam and Henry. Sam asked me if I believed there was something more, and I told him ‘no’, but fuck, I wish I could take that back.”

“What do you feel now?”

She met his gaze. “Like I have to start living my life like there’s no reset. And if there is something more, maybe by the time it’s my turn, I’ll be the kind of person that deserves to see it.”

Tommy’s smile trembled, and he squeezed her shoulder gently. “That’s damn admirable. Go home to your family, Ellie. And thank you for making an old fogey like me happy.”

Now, leaning back and gazing up at the stars on Catalina Island, Ellie let her grief for Tommy rise along with the love and happiness of her memories of him. She’d learned enough not to overlook the fact he’d rather her celebrate his life than revel in his death. He’d want her to be happy, and so would Joel.

* * *

Abby wasn’t the only person excited by the day fishing trip she arranged. Jo—the enormous, harmless man who had shadowed and flirted with Ellie for most of her time on the island—volunteered to pilot the yacht. Given that Al was in skimpy shorts and a bra and Lev wore a t-shirt and had a smear of white paste over his nose, they were gung ho about this fishing thing too.

Abby wore almost nothing. Her body was a little crazy, but not nearly as surprising as before Ellie had seen what she did in the gym. She’d assumed Abby was heavy around the middle to match her large frame, but goddamn if Abby wasn’t trim too.

They fished for about two hours before that pretense fell away.

Ellie’s last sketch on Catalina Island was of Abby and Lev sitting on their surfboards, laughing at each other. Abby interrupted Ellie’s work when she paddled back to the boat and clucked like a chicken, as if Ellie hadn’t gotten in the water out of fear. Ellie would have ignored her taunts except for Abby’s triple dog dare. That was just too far.

Surfing wasn’t a hard thing in practice, and the water was warmer than Ellie expected in the summer sun. She could admit she was having fun.

“What did the mom shark say to her son?”

Abby raised one eyebrow behind her sunglasses. “What?”

“Watch that sharkasm.”

Abby snorted out a startled laugh. “That’s terrible. I have to remember that for Lev.” She cleared her throat and sobered. “Ellie, what do you call an experienced fisher?”

Ellie sat back on her board and frowned in consideration. “A master-baiter.”

“How the fuck did you guess that?!”

“Puns are kind of my superpower, Abby.”

As the afternoon sun softened to evening, they anchored and lazed. Jo grilled a variety of fresh fish fillets, and everyone but Ellie and Abby sampled fresh ceviche and finished off Abby’s bottle of mezcal. It was amusing to see Al, Lev, and Jo battle it out with rock-paper-scissors to decide who had to eat the worm.

Abby carried her beer up to the bow, sitting with her legs hanging out the railing. She posted with the wide yaw of the boat in the gentle ocean swells, far more contemplative than her drunk friends laughing on the other side of the boat.

“Mind if I sit?”

Abby looked up at her in surprise. “Knock yourself out.”

As Ellie settled beside Abby, she wondered why she’d approached. Abby glanced at her a couple times before clearing her throat. Gone was her relaxed grin, even if she feigned it for the moment. She used the hand holding her beer to gesture. “So I figured we could spare a few fish in an icebox. Your family can get a little taste of California fishing, you know? There’s room in the truck.”

Ellie didn’t have much to say to that.

Abby hesitated. “You, uh, remember the best roads back, right?”

They’d gone over the map as a group a few days prior, taking into consideration FEDRA’s knowledge of California’s gangs and infected. “Yeah. I have our map marked up. At least LA will be open.”

“Just stay—”

“I remember.” Stay away from the big cities. Like Ellie hadn’t traveled before.

They lapsed into silence, and Ellie worried at knowledge that sat heavy within her. Was it fair to bring up? Was it fair not to? Abby shifted awkwardly, but she didn’t get up even after she finished her beer and set her mug aside.

Ellie nearly said it but stopped herself. She sighed instead. Ellie rested her chin on her arms and looked over at Abby, who studied her intently. “Ellie, is there something you want to say to me?”

“Fuck. I don’t know if I even should.” Ellie watched a dolphin leap from the waves in the distance. “I know whose sample they used to…get me pregnant.”

“Okay?” Abby asked uncertainly. From her tone she wondered why that would matter to her.

“The lab associates always provided samples; apparently FEDRA had this thing about preserving genetic material. Just in case.”

Ellie let that information settle, and then she watched Abby put the pieces together. This woman might be built like a brute, but she wasn’t stupid. Her brow was drawn for a moment, but her entire face opened in horror. Even in the heat of the evening sun, she went gray.

“No,” Abby whispered. “My dad?”

What better person to use to impregnate the first known immune woman than the very man who had created the CBI lab that was holding her? The fact he was dead and had no claim over the fetus—living or the remains—was an added benefit. They hadn’t given a fuck about Ellie’s claim.

Ellie nodded.

Abby dropped her head and shook it, her mouth working in her emotion. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s beyond fucked up? Jesus fucking Christ! I thought I finally…” She cut herself off and turned her face away.

Ellie had a good guess at why Abby was so angry. “It’s not worse because of you. Or him. Okay? I only told you because…”

“Yeah. I know.” Abby exhaled, her shoulders drooping. Abby’s grief hit Ellie in a funny place. She hadn’t anticipated that this information would hurt Abby in a way Ellie hadn’t been.

“They took so much from me, but this feels different. Like I got something from them, you know?”

“You still want it even knowing that?”

“Al told me in Jackson. I _was_ upset, but I didn’t know J Anderson was your dad. When I found out…”

Abby winced.

“I actually feel better now that there’s this…connection. Does that make sense?” When Abby’s silence stretched, Ellie hesitated. “Sorry. I thought you should know.”

Abby’s deep breath expanded her chest. Finally, Abby met Ellie’s gaze and studied her for a long moment before putting on a smile. “Ellie, do what you have to do, okay? I just hope it works out the way you want it to, but if you think you owe me because it’s my dad, you don’t.”

“I want _her_. I have this whole time.”

“Her,” Abby echoed quietly. Finally, she smiled. “Then I hope that’s how it is.”

* * *

They left Catalina Island early the next morning, coasting through the heavy fog that descended on the water. Lev piloted the boat because he didn’t trust Abby not to crash on the beach. Abby took the ribbing with an amiable eye-roll. When they hit the dock, Ellie tried to ignore the FEDRA soldiers patrolling the docks, but it was impossible to overlook the douchebag in uniform that walked up to salute Abby.

Abby stared at the man in disbelief. What the hell did she expect, wearing a FEDRA officer’s uniform? Ellie sketched a salute back, earning a frown but no comment from the soldier.

“Fucking Escobar,” Abby muttered as she checked the truck, leaving Ellie to say her goodbyes to Al and Lev.

“Good luck, Al. Thanks for not cutting into my brain, I guess?”

Al laughed and pulled Ellie into a gentle hug. “Would you believe me if I say you’ve changed my life for the better?”

“That’s way too sappy.” Ellie sighed when Al squeezed her again and murmured, “Be good to your family, Ellie.”

Now Ellie held her hand out to Lev, who accepted it in a firm shake. “Thank you, Lev. For getting me out and for Jackson.”

“Thanks for not killing Abby,” he said with a faint smile. Then more seriously, “And thank you for saving her. Get home safe.”

“That’s the plan.”

Ellie offered them another wave and walked up to the truck. Abby closed the back doors and shook the keys, tossing them over when Ellie opened her hand. Abby waved at it awkwardly. “Full tank, plenty of fuel in the back. Along with a few other things Jackson can use. Hopefully the yellowtail’ll make it.” After a moment of silence, Abby raised a hand in another awkward wave. “Take care, Ellie.”

As Abby turned away, Ellie hesitated. She couldn’t leave things this way, especially not after that heavy conversation the day before.

“Hey, Abby?”

Abby paused, turning on one heel to glance back at Ellie.

“You’re not a piece of shit.”

Abby’s faint smile faded and was replaced by tears. She approached again. Ellie was certain Abby would ruin it by sweeping her into a hug. Instead, Abby stopped, offered her hand, and grinned when Ellie accepted it in a firm shake. Ellie couldn’t help but smile back, even if she would never admit to tearing up too.

“I hope I see you again.”

Ellie cleared her throat to find her voice. “If you’re ever out my way, stop by for a beer. You’ll always be welcome.”

* * *

When Ellie had first laid eyes on the farmhouse after that lonely summer in Santa Barbara, she’d known immediately she wouldn’t find her family inside. Not with the shutters askew, paint peeling, no signs of livestock in the back field.

Dina had left with JJ.

It wasn’t something she could be bitter about. Ellie had made the choice to risk this the day she walked away from her family. Maybe they were happier without her, though she knew she would never be happier without them.

Ellie didn’t feel much of anything except aching darkness as she strode through the tall grass. Still, she’d walked up the steps to the old house, felt the familiar grinding resistance of the storm door, and stepped inside.

It echoed in its emptiness. The kitchen was bare, and all of JJ’s toys were missing from the playroom. There were sheets folded on the bed she and Dina had shared, probably for any passing traveler that needed to make use of the house.

Ellie fingered the naked doorframe before opening the only closed door in the house. She remembered Dina putting up the mezuzah, the way she’d laughed when Ellie said it was crooked. It was here that Ellie got all the confirmation she needed that Dina had left Ellie as well as the house. All of Ellie’s trauma was packed away in boxes and tucked behind the desk, and their album sat on the guitar case.

She sat down on the chair with Joel’s gift in her lap and tried to play, already knowing the truth of her inadequacy. Not only did the notes ring sour, her hand ached with every shift.

She needed antibiotics if she was every going to heal from her wounds.

She just wasn’t sure she needed to heal.

She’d hoped to free herself from her pain by killing Abby, but on the cusp of that act, she realized her mistake was thinking any death but her own could ever end her suffering.

Ellie considered that last moment with Joel, glanced out the window, and considered her options.

She could walk into the woods and let all the suffering end—her own and the suffering she would inevitably wreak on those around her. She could finally free her friends and family from all from her trauma, allow others in her life to heal as she rotted and turned to loam. She could let humanity’s last hope boil down to dumb luck.

Or she could turn her boots back out into the world and search for someone out there trying to find the cure, ask them to crack her open and extract her immunity to spread around the world, and finally do the good that her mother claimed she could see in Ellie.

As she walked back down the stairs and out the door, Ellie let herself imagine a third choice. Perhaps her path led her out of those woods, but maybe it stopped well short of dying for the world.

She could go home and try to make things right.

Ellie wondered at the unfairness of returning to her family, the selfishness to intrude upon her family’s new life. Yet… She decided that she’d give herself the time to get to Jackson’s gates to consider if she’d just keep going after all…if she’d bypass Dina, JJ, Tommy, Maria, and all their love.

She listened to herself and ignored the part of her that whispered she would only bring them pain and darkness. She reflected on her longing to see them again, the need to confirm they were safe and healthy, and the thought that maybe a small part of them could be happy to see her too.

Maybe she could finally free herself of the darkness that dogged her throughout her life, the thing that whispered in her ear that every good feeling was more than she deserved. Maybe its silence didn’t have to be earned with death alone. Maybe freedom lay in happiness after all. Maybe it was with her family.

But if she did this, if she went back to them, she had to make it right. She had to put this selfish, nihilistic part of herself to bed and try to make them as happy as they made her. She owed it to herself and to them to try to find her happiness with their happiness.

When she got to Jackson’s gates and watched them grind open, Ellie knew this would be the hardest path. But as Joel liked to say, nothing worth doing was ever easy.

* * *

Despite the truck being the best FEDRA had to offer, it sputtered to a stop in Alpine Junction. On one hand, the timing was annoying as shit because she should have been in Jackson before dark that day. On the other, she’d just crossed into Wyoming, which was closer than she would have guessed given her general luck.

It was late enough in the day that Ellie realized she was going to spend the rest of it clearing infected from the Alpine. By the time she climbed into the outpost, it was evening. The patrol log calmed the worst of her fears; Lucia had signed it two weeks prior.

It felt lonelier in the lookout than in the truck, but she was safer from infected up here since the truck wasn’t moving another inch without help she couldn’t offer. Ellie hunkered down, ate an MRE, and settled in to sleep.

As she lay in her bag, she realized what a goddamn boon having the hope for a cure was for her outlook. Despite the half dozen infected she’d cleared from Alpine just an hour before, she didn’t see their presence as a sign the world was getting worse or as a twisted personal failing. There were no if-onlys; it was just a normal group on a normal day.

For the first time in maybe her whole life, Ellie didn’t expect tomorrow would be worse than today.

Despite her general exhaustion, her excitement about being this close to home—and finally for good—made her restless through the night. Her legs ached too, a product of sitting in the truck for hours on end.

No other infected wandered in overnight. She had hope to get to Hoback by nightfall and rest overnight there. Given the miles she would have to cover to get to Jackson, she had at least two days of hard walking unless she happened upon a patrol coming through. Her goal was to arrive in Jackson the next day.

The day was quiet, filled with walking uphill and downhill on the highway that snaked along Snake River. This time of year—the high point of summer—the river was rushing rapids, far too dangerous to ford. It was a great barrier against infected, even if summer was low season.

In the light of the evening sun, Ellie had to stop on 89 just south of Hoback, her intended campground the night. She tucked her thumbs into her straps and deflated. The bridge over Snake River had collapsed, leaving a thirty-foot drop into raging rapids.

“Definitely not going this way.” Ellie pitched her voice to imitate Dina. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, Ellie. You’re gonna hurl yourself right across that gap.”

She considered her options. There was a footbridge north of Hoback proper that crossed Hoback River, a small tributary of Snake River. That would put her on the other side of Snake River and give her a straight shot up 191 to Jackson. The other option was picking her way through dense brush and steep gravel on the west bank of Snake River until she hit 191 when it crossed the river again, which was a good three miles as the crow flew. Accounting for her backtracking to camp tonight, it would be a hard five miles hiking in the brush to bypass the broken bridge.

She’d rather deal with infected in Hoback and have a flat surface to hike on than risk slipping, breaking an ankle, and/or falling into the river.

With a sigh and swear, Ellie turned around and backtracked nearly four miles to the ski lodge south of Hoback. She settled in for the night in a dusty room on the second floor. The bed was clean, but no one had signed they’d been in here for over a month. She barely had enough energy to eat before sleep dragged her down.

When she awoke, her legs were less than happy with her. From sitting nearly all day for two days to twenty miles the day before… But she was almost home, and that alone got her to her feet. She craved warm food, but she’d rather eat it at her dinner table with her family. Ellie choked down another dry MRE and emptied her canteen.

The problem with passing through the cluster of buildings in Hoback was that Ellie had the bright idea a few years ago to make an infected trap. The warehouse that centered the establishment was a spore den, and no amount of burning, killing, or clearing could keep infected from coming back. Dina told Ellie that Jesse had the same complaints back when he headed Jackson’s patrollers.

Ellie had decided to barricade the whole town except the warehouse, and the door leading in was draped in mesh that was all but impossible for the infected to exit. She’d been inspired when Teb set up a trap to clear the bats from their attic.

The fastest way to the little bridge over Hoback River was through the spore den, but she could bypass the mesh through one of two high windows in the warehouse.

She dispatched two infected wandering in front of the warehouse with her revolver and listened. Given the noises coming from the warehouse, there were a few infected inside waiting for her.

Fuck it. She wanted to be in Jackson tonight, and this was the quickest way. Ellie retrieved her mask, pulled it on, and as Abby had coached her, carefully checked the seal.

She had a molotov and plenty of revolver ammunition, but she’d used all her arrows in Alpine Junction. As Ellie climbed up into the high window of the spore warehouse, she studied the interior. There were four infected tangled up in the mesh trap, trying to rush back out in the direction of her gunshots.

As she slipped between the high shelves, she pondered the pull between slipping out quickly and clearing these infected to protect Jackson. Ellie cast a glance over her shoulder again.

She’d been a patroller for nearly a decade. That kind of instinct didn’t just turn off.

Ellie eased out the back exit and propped it open. At least she’d remembered the layout of the back of the warehouse: largely empty aside from chain link fencing. The lock was inaccessible on this side of the fence so she had to climb. She was less than graceful; for the first time, her belly was a noticeable nuisance as she climbed over the top of the fence.

“Okay, baby girl?” she murmured softly after she dropped back to the ground. Ellie smoothed her hand over her abdomen and rose from her crouch, her thighs and ass protesting. She cast her gaze around, pacing back to grab a bottle.

She tossed it, and it shattered against the building beside the open doorway. When the infected stumbled out into the yard searching for the source of that noise, she tossed a brick against the fencing. That got their attention, and her molotov doused them a moment later.

She shot the two that remained standing and waited for more to announce themselves. When nothing else stirred, she locked and secured the warehouse door and the fence.

Then, finally, Ellie peeled off her mask, dragged the straps back over to sit on the front, and settled it back in her bag. Time to start her travel in earnest. She had at least twenty more miles to walk and not as much daylight as she hoped to cover that distance. It seemed less and less likely she’d make it to Jackson today.

Nothing to do about that now. There were a few pockets of buildings with safehouses on the road to Jackson. She’d go as far as daylight and her legs allowed and turn in for another night.

The sound of hoofbeats coming hard from the north raised her alarm. Even this close to Jackson, there could be hunters. On instinct, Ellie swung herself below the footbridge over Hoback River and waited breathlessly for the rider to identify himself or go on by.

“Ellie?! _Ellie!_ ”

Dina? Ellie slipped as she scrambled out from under the bridge. It _was_ Dina, who’d cut her hair since Ellie had last seen her, who was already sobbing as she dropped out of the saddle and crossed the distance between them. Dina sank into her arms, and Ellie folded her tight, breathing her in as the world settled to right again.

“You’re here,” Dina hiccoughed, her chest shuddering in Ellie’s arms.

“I’m here,” Ellie confirmed, squeezing as tight as she dared. They rocked together in their embrace even as another rider approached. Greg lifted his hat off his head and stared, his face shifting into a slowly widening grin. Ellie grinned at him, then turned to her wife as Dina laughed in pure happiness that Ellie felt to her core.

* * *

They returned to the lookout just north of Hoback, where Ellie gratefully drained Greg and Dina’s canteens. She stretched her hamstrings by sitting flat on her ass with her legs open to make room for her small belly, wincing as she bent close to each knee.

“I’m so fucking tired of walking.”

“Is that truck in Alpine yours?” Greg asked her. He patted the radio clipped to his belt. Nice. Jackson had finally gotten that project together. She nodded, shaking her keys at him. “It broke down, but if we can fix it up, the supplies are still good. Hopefully the fish hasn’t gone bad.”

“Fish?” Greg echoed.

“Great sea fishing at the Firefly’s base.” Ellie offered Dina a wide smile. “Killed about six infected in Junction.”

“Thanks for doing our jobs for us,” Greg replied. His grin hadn’t faded.

Dina gave her a look of bare affection. “You cleared two patrols all alone. Pretty impressive, even for you.” Then Dina touched Ellie’s abdomen. “Maybe you should have left the infected for us, given this?”

Greg cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh, wait downstairs.”

“It’s Greg’s,” Ellie said dryly, causing Greg to jerk around in horror and gasp, “That’s not funny!”

“Your face right now is.”

“Dina, she’s joking! It’s a shitty joke, but you know her jokes—”

“Greg, relax.” When he slumped in relief, Dina commanded, “Downstairs.”

When they were alone, Ellie turned back to Dina. “How’s JJ?”

“Doing better.”

“Yeah?”

Dina smiled sweetly, her love for JJ all over her face. “Yeah. He’s been making you presents for when you get back. Filled up your bedside table already.”

Ellie couldn’t wait to see him, and she would. Today. Dina reached out to touch Ellie’s face. Ellie pressed a kiss against Dina’s palm. She was acutely aware of Dina’s gentle touch on her abdomen. “So… Does this count as showing yet?”

“Yeah, babe. Super obvious now. For what it’s worth, you look really good, and part of me is really jealous about that.”

“Sorry I gave you shit in Seattle.”

Dina’s smile faded. “Is everything okay?”

“So far everything’s normal. But I’m still not sure, you know? That she’ll survive.”

“She? Ellie…”

Ellie wasn’t sure she hid her emotions well: the mélange of fear and hope that wavered within her. Given Dina’s softening smile, she read Ellie like a book. Dina pulled Ellie close into a tight hug, and they rocked together. Then Dina mumbled, “Robin’s going to lose her shit when she sees you.”

Ellie chuckled and pressed kisses to Dina’s neck. “Jesse said the same thing when he realized you were pregnant.”

Dina continued to stroke the curve of Ellie’s abdomen. Ellie kissed her, and Dina sank into it, and then there was nothing but Dina. Ellie needed this quiet moment of intimacy more than anything.

Greg knocked loudly a few minutes later, clearing his throat and kindly not mentioning that he’d caught them making out like teenagers.

“So what the hell happened? Did they figure it out?” he asked as they walked downstairs.

“It’s done. Or at least my part is.”

“So fast?” Dina asked.

“It was done years ago, actually.”

“What?” The look Dina shot her made Ellie smile.

“I gave Abby my immunity in Santa Barbara. Back when she bit my fingers off. She was immune this whole time. Go figure, huh?”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking. It’s a little…complicated, but I’m free. Abby’s going to be the one to spread her immunity.”

“Fuck.”

Ellie grinned back at Dina, who’d stopped walking. “I said the same thing. Hey, do you think James will make collards with dinner tonight or tomorrow?” She paused. The look of shock all over Dina’s face made her fearful. “Is James okay?”

“God, give me a second to take this in! Yes, James is fine. Can’t I just be emotional for a minute while I figure this out?”

Ellie paced back to gather Dina in a strong hug. After a moment, Dina pushed her away even as she rubbed Ellie’s back. Her dark eyes were wide with hope. “Is it really over?”

“Really. I’m all yours, babe. No more leaving.” Then, as Ellie had practiced in her head, she declared, “Happy anniversary.”

Dina’s eyes filled with tears, and she yanked Ellie back to her for a hard kiss. Greg gagged loudly nearby, which made them both laugh. Dina tapped the end of Ellie’s nose. “I hope you realize you’re never topping this anniversary gift, wife of mine.”

* * *

“I’m so damn glad I don’t have to walk,” Ellie said a few minutes later. In general, she hated riding in the bitch seat on a horse, but holding Dina was totally worth it. And not walking. She glanced over her shoulder at the collapsed bridge and sighed.

“When did that happen?”

“In the last two weeks. If you’d waited another few hours, Greg and I would’ve cleared Hoback.”

“If I could see the future, I wouldn’t have come up the highway to the broken bridge. I had to turn around and backtrack to the ski lodge last night.” Ellie leaned close and nuzzled Dina’s neck. “You smell good.”

“I love you, El. I can’t express how fucking happy I am you’re back. But you really don’t.”

“Hot pile of garbage?”

“More like forgotten outhouse.”

“I did walk over twenty miles yesterday.”

“And I can smell every one of ‘em.”

Ellie chuckled. She gave up on what Greg would call unnecessary PDAs and instead turned her gaze north along the highway. It was a beautiful summer day, even more so from the sound of the rushing river, the rustle of leaves, and the happy calls of birds.

Not only was she going to be home for their wedding anniversary, she would be home for her birthday. She didn’t have to worry about missing anything else. Ever.

“Is Jackson okay?”

“We’re working through it collectively. But I’d say yes.”

“I brought a shitload of medical supplies, seeds, and nonperishables back with me. Hopefully that’ll help. Babe, are you running patrols now?”

“Feels good to do it. I know we talked about the risk, but…”

“Probably just shouldn’t run them together.”

“You’re not running patrols until that baby’s weaned.”

Ellie chuckled, pressing a few kisses to Dina’s neck, earning her murmur. “And are you okay?”

“Now that you’re back? Okay doesn’t cover it.”

“I love you.”

“Oh, Ellie…” Dina shifted to look over her shoulder. “Are you sure? No more leaving?”

“No more leaving.”

“Explain this to me. You gave Abby your immunity?”

“I infected her too, apparently.”

“You said you couldn’t do either of those things.”

“That’s what I thought. But apparently anytime I get bit, I actually carry the infection locally until my…immunity neutralizes the infection. So the infection was viable when Abby bit me. Al thinks maybe I can transfer my immunity if someone’s infected at the same time.”

“Wow. What are the odds of that?”

“About the same as being immune, I guess.”

“So if you kissed someone after they got infected, would they become immune?”

Ellie laughed at the thought. “Like a bunch of prince frogs? Don’t think so.”

“Yeesh, I’d have to fight them off with a baseball bat.” Ellie stroked her fingertips just over the Dina’s waistband, earning a twitch and sigh. “El, unless you want to fuck in the woods, you’ve got to stop teasing me.”

“Sorry. Once was enough.” Ellie made it a point to return her hands to Dina’s hips. Ellie should have realized she’d just opened a can of worms. Dina glanced back at her to ask, “You and Cat?”

“Nope. Never happened.”

“Now I have to know. What happened?”

“We rolled over a hornet nest.”

Dina dropped her head back against Ellie’s shoulder to laugh, bright and happy. “How did I not know about this?!”

“Probably because of the deep and utter mortification I still feel about it.”

“Where did you get stung?”

“Where didn’t I?”

“Oh, my God! Were you naked?”

Well, at least Dina wasn’t jealous. Ellie nudged Dina, hoping to distract her. “Do anything fun recently?”

The look Dina shot her indicated she would revisit the subject later. “I got high with Greg and Cat last week. I always thought Cat still wanted you, but she’s just touchy, isn’t she?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle as she pictured the scene. “But you had fun?”

“Yeah. Not hornet-sex good, but it was a good time. Oh, JJ started jumping on Rainbow. He’ll want to show you as soon as we get home. He’s been practicing a song for you too.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.”

Just the thought made her light. Ellie took a long breath and released it in a shaky, happy sigh. Impending doom was far away; she felt buoyed by her happiness and relief. When they lapsed into silence, it was a happy one. It didn’t escape Ellie’s notice that Dina was fiddling with Ellie’s wedding band. She gave her hand up and smiled when Dina knit their fingers together. Probably not the safest thing with Japan moving at a canter, but they did it anyway.

The first view of Jackson’s walls put a lump in Ellie’s throat. She grinned and raised a hand in greeting when the two guards at the gate gaped at her.

They were quick to volunteer to take Japan into the barn. Greg, meanwhile, sent one of the barn kids to grab two backup patrollers. Ellie passed him the keys to the truck. “There’s fuel and an extra battery in the back of the truck. I think it might be the spark plugs, but you know how I am at fixing shit.”

“That I do, Cap.”

“You’re going to have to take it up 26 to cross north with the bridge out, but it shouldn’t take—”

Greg folded her into a hard, quick hug. Ellie patted his shoulder as he pulled away, and she pretended there weren’t tears in his eyes.

“Glad you’re back, Ellie. With my baby too.”

She already regretted that joke.

When Ellie saw Maria striding out from the barn, part of her wanted to tease that Maria hadn’t lost her talent of knowing exactly where Ellie was in Jackson at any given time. But Maria wasn’t stopping, and her expression didn’t invite jokes. Ellie sank into Maria’s hug. Maria wasn’t prone to emotional displays, but as she rested her head on Ellie’s shoulder, her body shook in Ellie’s arms.

“I’m okay,” Ellie reassured her.

“Sorry.” Maria pulled away and used her handkerchief to wipe her face. Then she sobbed into it again before she got herself under control. “Is this cure nonsense over with?”

“Not nonsense, but, yeah, it’s done,” Ellie replied, but her grin was uncontrollable. Maria looked at her as if she’d never seen her before, and Dina leaned up against the paddock fence and studied Ellie with an affectionate smile of her own.

“Maria? Ellie and I are going to grab JJ and head home. Why don’t you come by later for dinner or a drink?”

“Thank you, I will.” Maria gave Ellie one last lingering look. Then her gaze landed above Ellie’s belt, and her eyes widened. She reached out, ghosting her hand over Ellie’s belly. Ellie smiled when Maria met her gaze, and Maria relaxed visibly before turning away to whatever task had been interrupted.

As they walked down Main Street, Ellie glanced back over her shoulder. Dina leaned close. “I’ve never seen her cry before. Have you?”

“Nope,” Ellie replied. “Think we can convince her to let us grow weed in Jackson?”

The sassy stare Dina shot her suggested it might be worth a try.

They had to stop a dozen times as people recognized Ellie. She accepted hugs and shook hands, ignoring when gazes wandered south of her neck. She didn’t think she was big enough to be noticeably pregnant, but the female half of Jackson seemed to notice.

The new daycare was in a whole new building—the old school. Ellie assumed someone had finally cleaned out the upstairs for the older kids if the little ones were down here. Cat was in the hallway with all her painting materials. When Ellie recognized the aquatic theme, she felt a spark of creativity move through her. She’d seen some real pretty wildlife on Catalina Island. Maybe Cat would want her help.

Cat dropped her brush right on the floor when she saw Ellie, and Ellie decided she was done with this stoic bullshit. Hugging felt good.

Dina paused in front of the shut classroom door. Cat peeled herself away after pressing a kiss to Ellie’s cheek. Then Dina knocked, poked her head into the room, and waved at Ellie to follow.

JJ was only half-attending to Dina.

“JJ?” Ellie said, already tearing up.

He whirled around. When he saw Ellie, he dropped his toy and climbed slowly to his feet. He’d grown just in the weeks she’d been gone. JJ was in her arms a moment later. Ellie reveled in how solid and warm he was, how tightly he clung to her. She felt like she was recharging one moment at a time.

With a grunt, Ellie lifted him in her arms and carried him out of the classroom. He was content to wrap his arms around her shoulders and stay right where he was. When Ellie turned to kiss his neck, he smiled and squeezed her tighter.

Robin was nearly running when she caught sight of Ellie on the road. She stopped, pressed a hand to her mouth, and stared at Ellie’s midsection. Despite JJ’s legs wrapped around her waist, Robin immediately recognized the difference in Ellie’s body. She smiled, tried to hide it, then said, “Is this okay?”

“You can be happy, Robin.”

As Dina had predicted, Robin lost her shit. Then James came up from the opposite direction and folded Ellie, JJ, Dina, and Robin into a hug.

When they passed the graveyard, Ellie set down JJ and pressed a kiss to his temple, interrupting his abrupt, non-stop chatter. Dina glanced back at her in question, and Ellie tilted her head. “I’ll meet you at home. I just need a minute.” She directed her last words to JJ. “I promise. Then you can tell me all about the field trip to the barn.”

Dina smiled gently. “Of course. Come on, JJ. Let’s get started on dinner for Mom. Guess what she wants.”

“Collards!” he shouted.

Someone had put flowers on Joel’s grave recently, but they’d begun to wither. Ellie shifted her pack around and removed the wildflowers she’d picked a few days before in California, placing a bundle on each grave. With a sigh, she sat down and rested her elbows on her knees.

What a strange year. Just a month ago, and she would have said it was on par to be the worst stretch of life she’d ever experienced. Yet she’d survived horror, pain, uncertainty, and loss and somehow emerged from the other side feeling better than she had maybe her whole life. Instead of ever-present impending doom, she felt the absolute certainty that everything was going to be okay.

Her anxiety, depression, and flashbacks were never going to let her go completely, but Ellie had hope that there would be more good days than bad from here on out.

She combed her fingers through the grass that had grown thick over Joel’s grave. “I love you, Joel.” She sighed and readjusted Tommy’s bouquet. “I have a lot to tell them, huh? It’s about time I head home.”

She grunted as she climbed to her feet. She studied the Millers’ graves quietly. No matter her lack of faith, she had to believe that both Joel and Tommy were happy now, maybe even together in a better place than this world.

Ellie turned towards home. She crossed the street and gazed up at the yellow house behind the graveyard. The house was alive, welcoming, and even from the porch, she could hear conversation within its walls. When she saw JJ pressing his face against the living room window, she smiled and reached out to the front door.

It opened before she could touch the handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the happy ending. I can't seem to help it.
> 
> Epilogue to follow.


	15. Epilogue

Ellie held her breath, glancing from JJ to the deer. She knew better than to rush him; if he didn’t feel good about his shot, then he shouldn’t take it. So she waited and stayed still as the deer paused. As she’d predicted, the buck scented them when the wind shifted. Just as the buck thought about running, JJ took his shot, a sharp crack of noise that shattered the silence they’d descended into.

“I missed,” JJ hissed immediately.

“No, no. It was good.” Ellie hadn’t taken her eyes off the deer. She’d seen the impact and now watched the deer take two strides and go down. It was a good hit, maybe good enough that they would lose some of the heart.

She and JJ climbed down the ridge, crossed the creek, and climbed up to where the deer had collapsed against a tree. JJ stood over it and seemed to work to swallow. His eyes went glassy, and then he bent over the deer and touched it behind the ear reverently.

Ellie let him take his moment. There was no shame in feeling the kill. This was only his second deer, though the first had been a white tail. Seemed a shame to trade it, but JJ was saving up for his own revolver, and a mature mule deer buck could net a great trade at the general store.

Then the wind shifted, and Ellie scented infected. She tapped JJ on the shoulder and gestured for him to unholster his rifle again. She pointed across the gully at the runners that stumbled down the creek. One shrieked as it sighted them—or sighted their deer—and the group of three charged uphill.

JJ was still as he put his rifle to his shoulder. Ellie rested her rifle on one shoulder and waited until the runners were at the right angle. She took her shot. JJ fired his rifle as Ellie got her next round loaded. All three infected went tumbling back to the creek within a few seconds of each other. She sighted down her rifle again; the infected didn’t stir.

It wasn’t abnormal to see them out here no matter the season, though last winter hadn’t been as hard as the few previous.

“Mom!”

She looked at JJ in alarm. “What?”

“You just killed two with one shot,” JJ declared. As he chambered his next round, he turned a wide-eyed look to Ellie, who shrugged and opened her eyes wide to communicate she wasn’t sure if it was luck or skill. That only prompted his grin. She nodded to the buck at their feet.

“Let’s get him quartered and get to the horses.”

She waited for JJ to put the safety on his rifle before drawing her skinning knife. She didn’t want to unnecessarily scare him, but JJ got the necessity for speed. They’d only come out today because Dina had come off patrol the day before and told them the area was relatively quiet. It was lucky to bag a deer on their first day hunting; Dina would be happy to have them back without an overnight at one of their safehouses.

They skinned the buck, quartered him, separated his ribs, and removed his heart and liver for good eating—for another family sadly. Or maybe for the Tipsy Bison’s crowd. Ellie distributed the weight between their packs, abruptly realizing that JJ was as tall as she was. When the hell had he gotten so big?

Ellie made note of the location they left the deer’s guts. They might catch a few infected feeding tomorrow; it was close enough to town to be a reasonable trap. She and JJ left the dead infected. They wouldn’t cause an issue out here in the sun.

As they straightened under their burdens, Ellie tried to clip her rabbits onto JJ’s pack. He giggled and darted away from her, skidding a few feet down the steep hill.

“No! I don’t want it!”

“What? I’ll trade you that really heavy skull and antlers for these two very light-weight rabbits.”

“ _You_ shot them!”

“’cause they’re tasty.” And she had hopes to ask James to make a rabbit-skin hat for Dina for the winter unless she could trap a beaver in time. Ellie knew better than to tell JJ, who was sure to blab about it over dinner. He’d ruined at least three surprises in as many years before Ellie learned her lesson.

Dina was easy to please at least, surprise or no. Past the hat and a new song, a night at one of the cannabis greenhouses would be perfect.

“They have fleas!”

Ellie reached under her heavy pack to scratch her side. “They don’t have fleas anymore. _I_ have fleas.”

JJ pulled a disgusted face and charged up the opposing hill to get away from Ellie and her rabbit fleas. His laughter made her smile.

It was a hard hike to get back to the horses in their fenced yard. The horses were quiet, looking half asleep in the afternoon sun. No infected here recently. Bronco flicked his tail and shifted his weight as Ellie tied the bags to his saddle. She paused to let Bronco nuzzle her neck, rubbing his snip and studying his trusting gaze.

It was only now that JJ seemed to regret his quick hunt. He looked at the house they would have stayed in—Ellie planned to set up a tent outside for him—and frowned. “I wish we’d been able to camp.”

“Plenty of time for long, boring hunts later. I’d like to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Mama won’t let you if you have fleas. Can we eat before we go?”

“Not if you want dinner at home.”

It was Sabbath dinner, something that he seemed to realize abruptly. JJ was astride his horse in less than five seconds, waiting less than patiently for Ellie to get moving. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“Alright, alright. Hold your horses,” Ellie muttered.

“Your jokes are awful.”

“That wasn’t a joke, Tater.”

Ellie opened the gate, led Bronco out, and shut it behind JJ and his horse. Their ride back to Jackson was quiet. JJ was as content with their silence as Ellie. Aside from a startled porcupine and the bugles of a couple horny elk bulls, the trip was uneventful. It was still the warm side of fall but close enough to the end of the year that Ellie realized she had to figure out presents for family birthdays.

It was hard to believe that in three or four years, JJ would be ready to start group patrols. He hadn’t killed an infected before today, and somehow she’d overlooked that. He hadn’t frozen in the moment. He’d dropped the infected Ellie hadn’t hit and then had enough sense to know she’d killed the other two.

Fuck, man, he was growing up fast.

“Hey, JJ?”

He glanced over his shoulder in question.

“Proud of you, buddy. You did good today.”

He grinned wide, and Ellie saw so much of his mother in him. A hell of a lot of Jesse too.

“How do you feel about that? Killing the infected.”

“Okay,” he replied evenly. “Less than about the deer.”

“Fair. There’s no shame in it meaning something or not. Talk to me or your mother if it’s too much, okay?”

“I know, I know.”

She sensed his impatience and cleared her throat. “JJ, I think Eagle’s sick.”

JJ jerked around on his saddle to look at her in alarm. Ellie supposed she was abusing her authority a little, given she was the person called into the barn to check on the animals in just that scenario. “He sounds a little hoarse.”

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, shifting up on his saddle to put a little distance between them.

“That one’s one of your mother’s,” Ellie called after him, chuckling as she asked Bronco for a little more pep to catch up. “Here’s a new one: What would bears be without bees?”

JJ humored her long enough to think about it. “Unbearable?”

“Ears.”

He leaned his head back, groaned, and then laughed despite himself. Then he asked, “What did the buffalo say when his son left home?”

Oh, yeah, totally her son. Ellie pondered it. “Bye-son?”

“How do you always know?!”

“Pfft, I’m the pun master, kiddo.”

“How can you be so cool and so lame at the same time?”

“How did your mama raise a son who’s so disrespectful?” she retorted. He reflected her grin and, of course, said, “She’d say it’s your fault.”

He was right.

It was evening by the time they rode up to Jackson’s gates. Ellie raised a hand, and the gates grinded open after someone on the watch tower whistled.

She didn’t expect to see a marked FEDRA truck parked in front of the armory. Ellie turned her gaze around, but aside from a few stares, no one was acting particularly alarmed. Maria loitered nearby, but she wasn’t concerned enough about the visitors to approach Ellie.

“Hey, Lucia?” Ellie called over one of her patrollers. “Left deer guts two miles north on Moose Pass, near the creek that runs through. Killed three runners there. Grab two volunteers to check it out tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

With that done, Ellie eased Bronco closer to the truck. When the saw the flash of a blonde braid, she couldn’t suppress her grin.

The big woman in uniform turned and raised a hand, her smile just as wide. “Heyya.”

Ellie leaned back in her saddle. “Hey, Abby. You remember my son?”

Abby glanced at JJ with a softening smile. “JJ? We met a while ago. Dunno if you remember me.”

“I do,” JJ replied neutrally. He knew the abbreviated story now, and he looked from Ellie to Abby like he was figuring out a puzzle. Dina didn’t raise an impolite boy though. He climbed off his horse to shake Abby and Lev’s hand and welcome them to Jackson.

“JJ? Why don’t you run your deer up to the butcher?” Ellie caught his foot after he mounted. “Tell him I’ll sic your mama on him if he tries to cheat you out of a fair trade.”

“I got it,” JJ replied, turning to shoot one last curious look over his shoulder as he led both horses towards Main.

“What brings you back to town?” Ellie asked as she turned her full attention to Abby. She paused to shake Lev’s hand, coaxing his smile. “Didn’t recognize you at first, Lev. Nice chops, man.”

“Don’t disrespect the beard,” he replied dryly.

“Al with you?” Then she glanced at Abby’s ring finger and wondered if she should have said anything.

“No. She has too many projects going on back home. Figured we could get the job done without her.”

“Let you off your leash?”

“Oh, she’s still leashed,” Lev retorted. Well, that answered that question, no matter Abby’s eye-roll.

Their friendly banter hadn’t changed at all. “Come to dinner. We have plenty tonight. I have a new member of the family to introduce you to. And knowing her, she’s either in trouble or on her way to getting into trouble.”

* * *

Dinner was well on its way to being done. Dina hoped she hadn’t underestimated the food they would be eating tonight, but leftovers didn’t tend to last long in their house. Overall, she’d had a quiet day, but the day after patrol was usually a day of rest.

Dina had gotten back late enough last night that the kids were already in bed, but Ellie had been waiting for her at the barn. She helped Dina take care of Japan and walked her home. Instead of letting Dina wander upstairs, she’d pushed Dina down to sit in the kitchen chair in front of a plate of warmed food.

“Eat.”

Dina’s washbasin was full of warm water by the time she made it upstairs, and the very best part was Ellie was waiting in bed. Dina was exhausted, but she had enough energy to take Ellie up on the offer for a massage and all the wonderful places that had led.

Ellie put her out like a light, and Dina still felt warm and tingly and content. She’d woken up to an empty bed with half her family already gone, but maybe Ellie and JJ would be back tonight after their hunt and Dina could reciprocate Ellie’s attentions. She could hold out hope.

“I hope Ellie and JJ make it back for dinner,” Robin said in an echo of Dina’s thoughts. “Where are they staying if they don’t?”

“The old scout lodge on 22. Ellie took a tent for JJ so they may not come back even if they get the deer.”

“I don’t know. I think that boy would choose Friday dinner over sleeping in a tent.” Then Robin smiled. “I bet if they do come back that Ellie pitches the tent in the backyard for him.”

It would be a very Ellie thing to do. As long as Ellie didn’t share it with him, Dina couldn’t see the harm. Though it would probably be cold tonight. She’d have to fill a thermos so JJ had hot tea all night, and Ellie’s bear-skin rug would keep him warm enough in his bedroll.

“I forgot to ask. How was the patrol?”

“Not bad. We hit a couple groups near the border, but it was just five overall. Things seem quieter this year, but we’ll see when the snows start.”

Someone knocked on the door. Robin grunted as she got to her feet to answer. She returned with Wes on her heels. Wes wore an expression somewhere between amusement, concern, and apology.

“Dina? Sorry to bother, but we could use you by the school.”

“What is it?”

“Darius and Yani are about to get into it.”

Dina pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. She glanced at Robin, “Can you—”

“Sure,” Robin replied.

“The beans are probably done, and the bread—”

“I know.”

“And it’s really quiet upstairs.”

That drew a look of alarm from unflappable Robin. Robin raised her brows high and said, “Oh, dear.”

On cue, a loud thump came overhead, and Robin sighed, glanced around the kitchen, and walked towards the stairs. Dina decided she’d rather go play peacemaker between two quarreling men than whatever the hell might be going on upstairs. Keeping her apron on would be a nice touch though.

Half an hour later, after soothing a two tempers, dispersing the amused crowd that had gathered to see two too-old-men nearly come to blows over a stupid fucking fence, and marveling that this was the most conflict the town had seen in several weeks, Dina caught sight of her son at the intersection of Main and the graveyard.

JJ saw her a moment later, and he smiled. He was taller than she was now, and much too old to do more than wince when Dina hugged him. “Back already?” she asked.

“I got a mule deer. And I killed an infected.”

Concern swooped low in her belly, a sensation that Ellie had poopooed for years. Dina had never been so vindicated as when Ellie had grabbed her abdomen and said, ‘Oh my fucking god, it’s real!’ Even if JJ was hale and hearty, retrospective fear had its second to flush Dina with ice. “Are you okay?”

“’course,” he said, all Ellie. JJ’s eyes went wide as he turned to Dina. “Mama, Mom killed two infected with one bullet. Have you seen her do that before?”

“I’ve seen her do a lot of stupid things.”

“That was so cool, though!”

“Where is she?” The swoop of fear had a different quality now, but JJ seemed too steady for Ellie to be hurt.

“Shoot! I knew I forgot something in the woods.”

Totally Ellie’s kid. That joke was over-used two years ago, but the kids still loved it. When Dina shot him a look, JJ admitted, “She said she’d meet me at home. Is dinner ready?”

“Probably by now, Mr. Bottomless-Pit.” Dina wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek, JJ’s street cred be damned. “Glad you made it back tonight, Spud.”

Dina paused after she kicked her boots off on the porch. There were two different-sized laced military boots set neatly by the door. Ellie’s boots were haphazardly arranged under the window, and James and Maria had added their boots sometime in the last half hour. Add into that JJ’s boots and a tiny pair of pink Converse, and it was a fuller house than usual.

The front door opened at the exact moment the little girl on the stairs tripped over Ellie’s guitar case on the last landing. She fell head-first towards the living room floor. In nearly the same moment, Ellie—lightning fast—caught their daughter’s belly around her elbow and swung her around to place her gently on the floor.

“Jesus, Peanut!” Ellie gasped.

“Oh, my God!” Dina gasped too. Ellie turned to meet her gaze and grinned at the same time as her peanut collapsed on her back on the floor and laughed in delight at her mother’s trick.

“No harm done,” Ellie said, though she wore an expression that all but admitted she knew exactly what Dina was thinking: why the hell had she let that child do that on the stairs? Dina could only guess that Peanut been slowly inching the guitar down the stairs. Ellie wasn’t exactly lackadaisical about the safety of their children, but she was sometimes a little too relaxed.

“Mom. Check it out.”

JJ slapped a slip of paper—a owe-slip—in Ellie’s hand. As Ellie looked it over, JJ pretended to step on his sister, who shrieked with laughter under his foot. “Who wants peanut butter!” he gasped, and Peanut laughed so hard she tooted, which made all three children in the room laugh.

Then Ellie read the paper in hand and said, “Holy shit, JJ. For one mule deer?”

“I told him how you shot two infected with one bullet.”

“That was luck.”

“Pfft,” JJ muttered.

Then their little girl was up, running for Dina to throw herself in her arms. Dina accepted her strong hug, leaning over to kiss her head. “I love that you greet me the same no matter if I’m gone for five minutes or five days, Peanut.”

“I scared Gran,” she giggled happily. “I hid behind the closet, and when she walked by, I went ‘Boo!’, and she screamed!”

“That’s not very nice.”

“That’s what she said. But then she laughed. And Mommy laughed too when I told her.”

“I’m sure she did,” Dina sighed.

When JJ started climbing the stairs, his little sister was on his heels. He paused to return to the first landing to pronounce, “Mom has fleas.” Then he charged up the stairs, growling. His sister shrieked, and the entire house was treated to their thunderous progress down the upstairs hallway.

“Fleas?” Dina asked Ellie. She approached, noticed the rare moment of privacy they’d earned, and pulled Ellie in for a deep kiss. When they parted, Ellie raised her eyebrows in surprise. Her arms rounded Dina’s back.

“I guess you’re happy to see me. Where were you?”

“Darius and Yani got into it.”

“Over that stupid fence?”

“Darius backed over it with a tractor.”

Ellie snorted, her amusement plain. Good thing Dina had taken care of the issue because she’d managed to hide the fact she wanted to give Darius a hug for ‘accidentally’ destroying the eye-sore that Yani claimed was his right to keep up. Darius had so helpfully offered to put up a replacement himself, but Yani threw a slur, and things got a lot stickier.

“It’s taken care of.”

“Did you make them hold hands?”

“That doesn’t even work with our kids.”

Ellie’s smile fell away, and she tilted her head to the kitchen. “We have guests.”

“Oh?” Dina followed her wife into the kitchen and stilled as she recognized the woman helping James add the leaf to the kitchen table. Robin was happily chatting with the man standing by her near the stove, and Maria sat in a chair against the wall, engaged in the conversation too.

Seriously? Dina was called away to settle a dispute about a fence, yet no one bothered to tell her that Abby and Lev were in Jackson.

Abby straightened and smiled. “Dina, hey. Sorry for crashing dinner.”

Dina took Abby and Lev’s hands to shake them, studying them in turn. “I guess that means there’s news.”

“Let’s get dinner in our guests’ bellies before we talk shop,” Robin interjected in mild rebuke. When Dina glanced back at Ellie, Ellie shrugged. Whatever news Abby and Lev had to share would have to wait until later. She’d long since lost any fear that anything had to power to pull Ellie away from their family again. Whatever it was, good or bad, they could handle together.

* * *

Abby had been goddamn nervous about all of this, despite Lev’s reassurances and his teasing. The trip had seemed too short because it felt like they got to Jackson sooner than Abby was ready. Yet Jackson’s gates had opened to admit them, and though she and Lev had to stay by the vehicle as it was searched, no one had been hostile, not even Maria.

Then Ellie had ridden into the gates, and the first thing she did when she saw Abby was smile. JJ had greeted her neutrally, which was as good as she had hoped for. The next shift of nerves had settled when she’d seen that little red-headed girl tear down the stairs to greet Ellie. Abby had wondered on and off through the years if Ellie had had her little girl and if she’d been healthy.

She seemed healthy alright. And filled with rambunctious energy enough to explain the tiny red chucks on the porch flung far enough to be separated by three pairs of adult shoes.

The next bit of nerves had settled when Robin and James both happily greeted her.

“How is San Diego?” Robin asked as she lifted a heavy dish from the oven.

“Good. Things are going well.”

“You’re a soldier then?” James asked as he opened the table.

Abby glanced at the rank on her shoulder. “Honestly, it’s more administration work than anything. Lev here is fighting the good fight. He just graduated from his surgery training program.”

Robin and James appeared impressed, offering their congratulations. Lev pretended to be unaffected. Then they started a conversation about Lev’s comfort with performing surgery on livestock and Ellie’s recent procedures in the barn.

By the time the leaf was in the table, JJ was back, and Dina walked into the kitchen to blink at Abby and Lev in shock. She regrouped quickly, shook hands, and conversation seemed to balloon from there. It was a dizzying mix of back and forth that Abby had trouble translating, especially with the noises from the two kids upstairs. Dina paused to yell for the kids to wash up and swatted Ellie with a towel, telling her to do the same. All the while, Robin, James, Lev, and Maria were carrying on two conversations between them.

By the time they sat down to dinner, Abby was overwhelmed. This place had more going on than her gym in the QZ during kids’ afternoons. What she’d mistaken for happy energy was complete chaos. Aside from Lev and Abby, the seven people at the table seemed determined to talk over each other.

The only quiet moment was when Dina blessed her children, but as soon as everyone murmured their ‘amen’, it was off to the races again.

Lev exchanged a wide-eyed look with Abby as they passed plates, scooped food, and snatched bread from a loaf that disappeared in just a few minutes. They’d lucked out on Friday dinner, which offered a plethora of deer roast, mashed potatoes, and a variety of vegetables.

When the little girl sitting by Abby started singing loudly right in the middle of the conversation, Abby assumed it was part of the normal noise of this crazy evening.

Then Ellie looked over and sharply said, “Abby! Stop.”

Abby had never known her mother, but she froze instinctively. And so did the little girl next to her.

Then Abby realized exactly what that meant.

Emotion swept her, and she could do nothing but choke out, “Excuse me,” and escape into the cool evening. Through her tears, Abby smiled at the cat on the porch swing behind her. Someone, probably that little girl inside, had surrounded the napping cat with a variety of knickknacks.

Ellie found her on the front porch within a few minutes. “So, uh… I would have asked you if I could’ve.”

“I’m not…” Abby had to swallow to get the words out. “I’m not mad. I just… Why?”

Ellie seemed to fall into a memory for a moment. Abby wondered at that, if she was remembering that moment her healthy, sober baby lay against her breast for the first time. How despite her cautious optimism, she’d been crushed by relief, like her entire life—or at least the months before that moment—she’d been unable to take a full breath.

Now Ellie sighed, glanced at her, and offered a fleeting smile. “Dunno. Held her in my arms for the first time, and that was her name.”

“And Dina was okay with that?”

“She still likes to say that everyone was too relieved that I hadn’t actually named our kid ‘Peanut’ to care. She looked a lot like one though. How are newborns so ugly and cute at the same time?”

Abby found some humor in it, even if it wasn’t quite the answer she’d hoped. “My dad would say it’s an evolutionary-driven behavior. Ellie… After everything between us, you’d want that reminder?”

“How’d you put it? Some things matter more than all the rest.”

Abby couldn’t temper her relief. She rocked back against the railing and found her own joke, smiling for an entirely different reason. “You named my sister after me. You know that’s pretty fucked up, right?”

“To be honest, I always kind of considered you her aunt.”

Just the thought stung her eyes with tears. “I still wish it had been different for you.”

“I don’t,” Ellie replied without hesitation. “She’s a gift. I wouldn’t change anything that led to her, you know?”

“Yeah. I get that.”

Ellie studied her momentarily. “I didn’t ask, but how are you?”

“Good. I’m happy. Are you?”

“Yeah. Still have bad days, but…”

“Who doesn’t?”

“You’re really happy with FEDRA? I see you’ve climbed the ranks, Captain.”

“My dad used to say, ‘If you want things done right, best do it yourself,’” Abby replied dryly.

“Either that’s admirable or really conceited. But knowing you, it’s the former.”

Abby couldn’t find her voice to reply. After a moment, Ellie nudged her. “Come back inside. Finish dinner.”

When they walked back into the kitchen, Abby looked at little Abby again. It wasn’t that Abby had ever forgotten what Ellie told her on that boat, but she’d never pondered the situation enough to conceptualize that if Ellie had her baby, Abby would have a half-sibling. Before, she’d only seen Ellie in her, but Abby noticed it now: that Peanut’s red hair was the blonde side of red, that her nose was more snub than Ellie’s, that her eyes were hazel, not gray.

Wow.

Abby took her seat at the table and offered Lev a tense smile and nod when he shot her look that asked if she was okay.

“How long are you here?” Dina was asking Lev.

“Not long enough to overstay our welcome.”

“What business do you have here?”

“Ellie owes me a beer.”

Maria was unamused by Abby’s answer, and even Ellie rolled her eyes in response. Ellie retorted, “Don’t be coy; it’s gross.”

Lev snorted, unsuccessfully stifling his laugh. Abby turned her best baleful glare at him, but as always, it didn’t work. “I just wanted to bring supplies, offer news from the QZ.”

“And what did you bring us?” Maria asked.

“Some nonperishables. Seeds. Liquor. Medical supplies. Vaccines.” Abby let the last word hang before she continued, “For whooping cough, rabies, measles… CBI.”

“It’s not a vaccine,” Lev interjected at just the wrong time.

Abby sighed. “Why do you always have to ruin it?”

Lev rolled his eyes. “Because it’s a post-exposure treatment, not a vaccine. There’s a window of a couple hours if someone becomes infected to give them the treatment and prevent the infection from progressing, but it won’t do anything if you give it to someone prior to them becoming infected.”

Abby leaned forward, not letting him steal her thunder. “We can neutralize spores too. We just have to figure out how to deliver it efficiently into the environment, but we’re getting close.”

The adults at the table were speechless with shock. All except Ellie, who asked, “What’s FEDRA going to do with this?”

“Spread it across the country. We’re working on reestablishing infrastructure, centralizing FEDRA’s policies to reflect more democratic principles. And we can do that with the vaccine.” Abby sensed Lev’s annoyance and corrected herself. “Sorry, post-exposure treatment.”

“Democracy, huh?”

Abby shrugged. “We’re closer than the Fireflies ever were. I’m going to see this through.”

“There’s one other thing,” Lev said quietly. “We’re developing tests to check for the presence of the post-exposure inoculant. We used Abby’s samples to develop it, but I’d like to test you if possible, Ellie.” His gaze moved to little Abby. “And your daughter if you’re okay with it.”

Ellie leaned back, looking from Abby to Lev to little Abby. “What does the test involve?”

“A finger prick and a CBI scan.”

“Yeah,” Ellie said with a short nod. “I’m game.”

After dinner, they relocated to the living room. As Lev prepared his materials, Abby studied the pictures on the mantel. She picked one up and smiled to see their group: Ellie, Lev, Alyssa, and Abby posed together on the boat that last day on Catalina Island together. Abby set the frame back over the fireplace carefully.

Lev set his scanner against Ellie’s neck, and it flashed red. Then, with Ellie watching closely, he did the same to little Abby. Ellie’s breath shuddered as the machine flashed red again. Dina caught her shoulder, but she seemed steadier than her wife at the knowledge. Then Ellie held out her finger and watched curiously as Lev used a lancet to prick the tip before squeezing a few drops of blood into a small plastic kit.

“Looks like an old pregnancy test,” was her only remark.

“Similar technology.” Lev wrote Ellie’s name and the time. He set his watch against the paper before offering little Abby a smile. Ellie gathered her daughter in her lap and distracted her with kisses. While little Abby wiggled and laughed, Lev pricked her finger and gathered the sample.

It was only after she got a pink plaster on her fingertip that little Abby’s face collapsed in the briefest cry Abby had ever seen. Then she lost all interest and ran upstairs to do god knew what. JJ blinked up at the ceiling and shouted, “What are you doing in my room?!”

Despite Abby clearly messing with something upstairs, JJ was too interested in what was going on in the living room to leave.

“Positive,” Lev said, nodding to Ellie’s two lines. He took a photo. Then, two minutes later, he took another as the whole family leaned over the two tests and their identical results.

Lev had been confident about this, and Abby could sense his quiet triumph. He raised his gaze to catch Ellie’s eye. “Immunity is inherited.”

“You knew that already,” she accused, looking between them. Abby couldn’t help but smile at how easily Ellie had read them.

“My son has the same results.” She tried to put on a more neutral expression. “Guess what I named him?”

“If you say El—”

“Jerry,” Abby laughed.

“Thank god,” Ellie muttered. “You had me scared.”

“Ellie?”

She glanced up at Abby, steady and open. When Abby held out her hand, Ellie rolled her eyes even as she accepted the grip and shake. Ellie couldn’t quite suppress her smile when Abby said, “Thanks for helping me save the fucking world.”

Then Ellie stepped into Abby’s arms and hugged her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks! There are some unavoidable similarities to my pre-TLOU Part 2 story, but this is what my muse demanded I write. As always, I appreciate your feedback. If you made it this far, I hope the read was worth your time.


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